#novembria

[salenakingston]

This is sort of a rewrite of something I wrote years ago, but is basically still canon to this story. Salena’s obviously not from earth, so how did she come into the world of Novembria? Well this answers that very question, and gives an insight to not only the man she fears the most, but first impressions with Alexander Whitegale. Warning: The manner in which Xander speaks to Salena may not be desirable to everyone. Bare in mind he is a zealot, and has an immense hatred for the undead.

Prompt: None

Warnings: Blood, Medical Talk, Torture, small Self Harm

Timeline of Events: Pre-Whitegale Estate (Backstory)

Total Word Count: 3,433 words

Her back felt like it was on fire.

Suppose that was the entire point of it wasn’t it? To make the flames he had etched into her skin burn eternal. They would have to die down eventually, just as all flames did, but the damage had already been done. If the scars held no ashes from the flames, then the blackened brand at the center of her back did. For someone of such a holy practice, even that seemed far more brutal than Light above might allow.

But even whatever being controlled that power allowed this to happen, and continued to grant him access to that light. So long as he truly believed that he was deemed just, he would never have to worry about a loss in that control.

He gazed down at her, somehow his smaller human form towering over her. She hated that smug look he carried along his face. He must have thought this was an appropriate punishment for past deeds. He must have taken great pleasure in binding her down, taunting her, letting the heat lick at her fur before it was pressed into her. He spared her no mercy when the knife came just after it. No rest for the wicked. Each plunge was dragged out, a means to make her suffer more than necessary. It came to about half way through when she had been unable to hold back her cries. She didn’t want to go back to her hollow state, not when she had worked so hard to get her emotions back. Larregis would probably tell her she was being weak, that even wanting these feelings back would make her weak.

She missed him. He took advantage of her depressed state. She should have known better. He taught her better.

Now here she was, laying nearly face first against the stone floors, a bubble of concentrated light around her. That in of itself wouldn’t have been so bad, but it was the location he chose to keep her that made things worse. The many cathedrals scattered across the realm all came with one very important characteristic: being built on consecrated ground. So, even if the pain wasn’t enough to keep her down, the constant drain she felt was.

His smug look hadn’t faded. She wasn’t bound anymore, not seeing a reason for such. She was encased in the very thing that hurt her the most, and the only reason she was before was to ensure she wouldn’t attack anyone stepping inside her prison. She hated this feeling.

And she hated him.

“How the mighty fall. You should have expected this would happen.”

Her head turned up towards him. He just stood there, hands behind his back. When she didn’t fire back a retort, he took it as incentive to continue, “You undead monsters have been allowed to run free for far too long. It’s time someone took up the mantle of eradicating your kind.”

The beast found her voice, though barely a whisper. An echo to the torture she endured, “Then… just… kill me…”

“As much as I would love to, I think I’ll hold off a little longer. You’ll make for a good example to the rest of the Ebon Blade.”

“That’s… stupid…”

“You might think so, but our numbers will grow. You might have others fooled abomination, but not me. It’s all an act. Even I can see the blood on your hands, and if I can, then so will others. You’ll fall back into your old ways. It’s only a matter of time. Might as well put the dog down before it becomes rabid.”

“You… light damn… zealot…”

“You’re mistaken. I am not a zealot. I’m simply following through with what we should have done a long time ago.”

She wanted to press her head back down against the stone, block him out, and pretend all of this was some kind of messed up nightmare. Then the searing pain slipped back to remind her of reality. Why did she have to feel so weak? Narrowed eyes peered at one another, forcing her body up from the floor. She couldn’t raise up further than her knee, head lowered down as pants escaped from her maw, “Still have the strength to stand defiant against me hmm?”

Again she said nothing, the signature glow of her kind’s eyes barring down on the paladin. He considered the look, but ultimately dismissed it with the growth of his smile, “Admirable, but we’ll break you soon enough. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter how much you fight, you’ll get what you deserve in the end.”

What she deserved? Maybe, deep down she truly believed she deserved this sort of punishment, but why should he be allowed to judge her? He didn’t know her. She tried to turn her life around. That should be what matters right?

No, of course that’s not what mattered. She was undead, a soldier, and one to be put out of her misery. Maybe she should, after all… what was there to live for now?

Larregis saved her, but for what reason? Her heart sank.

But all it took was one look at that smug smile to make a switch in her head flip. How badly she wanted to see it vanish… stop looking at her like that! Her eyes fell from him, just for a moment. The walls of her prison were not solid, the only binds keeping her inside being fear. Fear. She should fear nothing. Yet one look at the shimmer of yellow stops her in her tracks. Damn him!

Damn him!

Was she supposed to just take this lying down? It was just some damn light. Don’t be afraid of it.

Wipe that smirk off his face!

Her claws ran against the stone, body trembling as her head lowered. He didn’t need to say a word for her to know just what was running through his head. He’d conquered her, and he would end her on his own schedule. The only reason she was still alive was to be used as a message. Their forces would have to grow. Why her rather than someone else? Perhaps that too was a punishment for her own past sins. No… it couldn’t be like this. If she were to die, should it not be on her own terms?

Not his’!

This will come with pain. She was already in pain.

Endure it like always.

Just ENDURE…

And-

Her body propelled itself forward, firing pain scorching her fur. Light clung to her form, searing it as she raced through. Finally, she saw that grin wash away from his face, replaced with genuine surprise. Who would be stupid enough to jump through the one source of power that was their greatest weakness. Each passing moment seemed as if it were playing in slow motion. One of her arms pulled back, claws racing for his face. Her pupils were nothing but pricks, teeth bared as her face went feral.

She felt her claws rake across skin, blood pouring down the center of his face.

When time sped back up, her body came crashing down on his’. Even with her body trembling terribly, pain racing through her entire being, she still had enough weight to keep him pinned to the ground. He looked back at her wild gaze, arm already pulling back to strike him again. Rather than show fear, he laughed right in her face. She hesitated.

“Go ahead! Do it you bitch! Go ahead and kill me! Prove to me you’re the monster that I know you are!”

A wave of shame flowed through her. He deserved death for what he had done to her… but that would make her no better than him. She already knew she was a monster, one that was trying to make up for it. If she fell back into her old ways… she could imagine Larregis would push her towards killing him anyways. Morals were never something they could agree on… but she stuck by her own now. Her hand lowered, but hung only for a moment. She found enough strength to push herself to her feet, gripping his leg, and throwing him as hard as she could into the closest wall.

She didn’t want to hang around for the aftermath.

The beast lowered herself down onto all fours, her body swaying some as she began to take off up the closest set of stairs, a command ringing out behind her, “Stop her! Don’t let her escape!”

The catacombs of this church were hard to navigate, and with the pain rushing through her, it made nearly every inch look the same. Was she making any kind of progress? She kept moving, even with her body swaying from her speed. She’d crashed into walls and paladins alike, but there was only one thing that mattered.

Get out of here!

Just how long would she be able to keep this up for? Apparently not too long, as her body finally collapsed to the floor. His damn followers were able to block off both her paths. This couldn’t be the end of it. She had to be so close. Just a little longer and she could get out. She looked up… they were closing in on her. She had to move… NOW!

A bright light seemed to engulf the entire side of the catacombs, a wall where none had been standing previously. Whether on impulse, or desperation, she pushed herself back onto her hands and feet. If it was anything like those she knew, it had to be some kind of portal. Whatever was lying in wait on the other side couldn’t have been much worse than her current predicament. She pushed past the advancing men, jumped into the light, and then she was surrounded by nothing but white.

‘It couldn’t have been worse than her current predicament?’ She seemed to regret that sentiment now.

Pain once again shot through her body, but not scorching heat like before. No… it felt as if her body structure was changing. Something along her rear felt like it was trying to break out, and her hands were forced to her head with the rush of pain panging there. Her entire chest felt like it was tight. Just what the fel was happening?

When the light finally faded, she was no longer underground. She could feel grass and dirt under her form. Whatever strength she had before to get up had finally left her. At least from what she could tell, there was no one around, which meant she had managed to escape her captors.

The feeling didn’t last long though.

There was that tight feeling all along her chest again, something along her upper chest felt like it was beating so hard that it would break through the skin. That would be impossible though. Her mouth opened, and it felt like all the air escaped from her. Impossible. She’s undead. She doesn’t need to breathe!

Her arms clung across her form, choking gasps escaping from her maw. So this was really it then? Escaping her tormentors just to fall here… alone… Well… at least it would be as she wanted, on her own terms. Everything began to grow black, darkness working to claim her. The last thing she saw before everything went dark was the blocky shape of someone standing in front of her.

----

Beep… Beep…

What was that sound?

Beep… Beep…

It seemed to be the only thing she could hear, unable to bring her eyes to open. She could hear the sound coming from one side of her, but the same question remained: What was making that sound?

Beep… Beep…

All she had to do was open her eyes, then she would be able to tell what it was. Just open your eyes. It’s not that hard. If she could fight to stand her ground when she felt like collapsing, then she could break through the heavy feeling keeping her eyes shut. When they finally broke open, her vision was flooded with a bright light. Had she imagined the outside before passing out? Was she still trapped in the light she ran into? If that was the case, she should at least still be able to move right?

So how come when she tugged at her arms, they wouldn’t budge. Panic began to set in.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The sound was getting more frantic, as if it were following in tune with her own rising feelings. Had she been captured again? Did he somehow manage to find her again? How? How was that possible? Blurry shapes began to fill her sight, some blocking out the light. She had been captured! She fought to get free of whatever was holding her down, though the fight didn’t last long. Her ears could catch the faint sound of a low hiss… and then everything started to go blank again…

Beep… Beep…

That sound came back into focus again. What happened before? Much like important details prior to this point, it was a blur. This time when she opened her eyes, she could see things much more clearly. The room she found herself in was nothing like those she knew. No.. they were not held up by wood or stone. What was this strange white plaster along the walls, and strange squared pattern on the floor?

Speaking of strange things, what was with the bed she now woke up in? That’s what it was right? But the bars along the side were unlike anything she’d ever seen, though the same could be said for the machines in the room. Not even the goblin or gnome engineers had tools like these. The beeping was coming from a small device at her right. It contained a black screen, a beep echoing in the room each time a spiked green line passed by.

She couldn’t recognize any of the other ones, only that a fair amount of them were hooked up to her body. In the case of one, there was a needle sticking into her wrist. Ordinarily she would have ripped the strange thing out, but she had come to realize the reason she couldn’t move was due to leather restraints along her wrists. No matter how much she tugged, her arms would not come free.

Along her muzzle was also an oddly shaped device. It was made out of some kind of see through material, fitted around her muzzle so that it covered her nose and mouth. There was some kind of tube coming out of it as well, attached to a tank at the side of the bed. Just what the fel was all this? Why was she here? What was whomever captured her doing to her? The worst part of all this was she couldn’t fight back.

And there would be no one coming to save her.

Her ears snapped to the side, the sound of footsteps coming. Her captor perhaps, coming to gloat over his newest catch.

An older man stepped inside the room, adorn in a suit that she couldn’t recall any man around Stormwind wearing. He had a clipboard in his hands, and it didn’t take long for his gaze to fall on her. Her ears pinned back, not liking the way his gaze fell. What did he want with her? She could only tense her body as he approached, “You’re awake. Good. You gave my staff quite a scare.”

Staff? She gave them a scare? What was he talking about?

He stepped over to the right side of her bed, one hand moving over the closest restraint. Her body tensed more, lips pulling back as she bore her teeth. How could she trust this stranger when she had just escaped someone that hurt her so badly? What’s to say he wouldn’t do the same to her now? Unlike before, there was something keeping her down other than her own fear. He seemed to notice her sudden aggression, “Calm down. I’m not here to hurt you. These were for the safety of my staff. Can’t have you injuring them while they work now can I? Behave and I’ll remove them.”

He was talking to her like she was some kind of dog in training. Why should she bend to his will? Her eyes narrowed more on him. His expression didn’t change much, “I’ll say it again, I’m not going to hurt you, though I would think you should be a little more thankful. I did save you after all.”

Save her? No he didn’t! She was still trapped! She gave a tug of her arms, “Says my captor. Why should I believe anything you have to say?”

“Captor? Dear, you are mistaken. I didn’t capture you. You’re here because your body was shutting down. Had I not brought you in, you would have died.”

Impossible. She was undead. She couldn’t die like that.

“You’re lying.”

One of his eyebrows seemed to raise. Without much hesitation, he reached for the strange piece along her muzzle. It took little time for it to be removed from her face. Everything seemed fine… but only for a moment.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

That noise was getting quicker, and she couldn’t seem to get any air again. Choking gasps rang out around her, eyes going wide as she tried to correct the problem herself. Growls echoed between her frantic inhales. The man standing over her seemed to smile, satisfied with his show of proof. He gripped her muzzle, slipping the device back on.

Beep… Beep…

Everything was normalizing.

“Believe me now? Are you going to behave?”

Damn him… What could she really do? She was truly at this man’s mercy, “I don’t have much of a choice do I?”

“Well you do, but unless you want to stay strapped to your bed, I suggest you work with me.”

Damn him! She really didn’t have a choice. Staying like this would only make things worse off for her. She gave a nod, feeling the tightness finally leave her wrists. She pulled her arms back closer to her chest, fingers rubbing over the sore feeling from her attempts at tugging. She could hear the man talking again, though most of it was drowned out. She had picked up on a few things.

“Your body is badly damaged. Your organs are acting as if they haven’t been used in years. They can’t handle functioning your body on their own. We’ll be keeping you in here and under close watch until they become more stable.”

Of course her body couldn’t handle itself. What reason would they need to work while she was undead? Such a thing meant nothing to her; but of course, they were still part of her body since she had not died before gaining her new state. And now… somehow… all of them were working again… and this man was aiming to try and keep her from dying. Why?

“What do you want with me?”

“Pardon?”

“I think I was pretty clear. Why did you save me? Why keep me here? What do you want from me?”

“My reasons are my own, but for the present time, I am willing to share that you are certainly not from here, and you look like you may need a place to stay. I can offer that to you.” He stretched an open hand out to her. Her own hand began to move up, but images began to flicker in front of her eyes. His own arm changed, covered in dark plate… That’s right… she’d been made this offer once before…

And look where that got her.

Her claws swiped across his wrist, the man pulling it back as she returned her own towards her chest. Eyes narrowed once again, her head turning to the side. There was a silence that hung over them for a while before he sighed, “Very well. I imagine you’ll be here for a while during your recovery, but that offer will always be open for you. In the meantime, perhaps it is best you rest. A doctor will be by later to check on you.”

And with that, he left. Once she was sure he was gone, a claw moved across her exposed arm, blood trickling down it. This stranger had opened up his place to her, and she threw it back in his face. She was going to be here a while… but that won’t stop her from punishing herself for her actions… This ‘doctor’ he mentioned wasn’t going to be happy when he or she turned up.

#salena #xander #alexander whitegale #novembria #my writing #tw; blood #tw; medical talk #tw; torture #tw; self harm

[talesofnovembria]

A moment of silence

Happening at the same time as this.

Salena stood in her room, right next to her bed. Her usual clothes were set aside, a dress shirt and vest laying out in front of her. Black slacks already covered her legs. A heaviness wore on her heart as she stared at the garments. He wouldn’t want this, yet here she was going to do it anyway. As she was slipping on the dress shirt, a ‘click’ rang out behind her. Eyes peered over her shoulder, narrowing the moment she saw who stood there.

Marie…

Was she here to do what she thought?

“Where are you running off to?”

“None of your business Marie.”

Buttons done, hands reaching for the vest, slipping it over her head, “You do this every year, but this one takes the cake. Don’t you have something more important to do?”

Narrowed eyes flashed over to her sibling, “Do you really think I’ve forgotten?”

“I think you’ve got your priorities backwards. Showing such little appreciation for those around you and more for someone who’s dead.”

“I never asked for your opinion.”

“I would have thought you’d have changed by now. Hasn’t our father done so much for you.”

“Yes he has. What’s your point?”

“So instead of running away, why aren’t you here to show him some appreciation. You’d be nothing without him.”

Now that stung…

“Fuck off Marie. Don’t you have someone else to bother?”

“You just hate to admit that I’m right.”

Salena finished buttoning her vest, reaching for something wrapped in paper laying along her bed, and threw a gate open, “I said, fuck off!” She stepped through the gate, shutting it off behind her. Why should she have to put up with this ridicule? From the one person she hated the most. It didn’t matter what she thought. There was somewhere to be, and nothing was going to stand in the way.

When she came through the other side, hands clung to the nearest pillar, heart racing from the surge of power pressing down on her body. She fought the weak feeling to keep her package resting on her arm. Huffs escaped from her maw. When everything evened out, her eyes peered at the surrounding area. Azsuna… Her heart sank at the sight. Moss covered elven structures, the smell of the sea hanging in the air, the hissing of the tiny naga population slithering around the area. They weren’t a threat, so much so she hadn’t felt the need to bring her weapon. If they hadn’t gone up in the years she’d kept coming here, they wouldn’t.

Pushing off the pillar, her paws pressed along the sand, sharp eyes still keep an eye out for any she might come across. Her path was clear, towers and pathways looming over her as she walked between them. Finally she stopped, one large structure having collapsed in on itself.

The same as it is every time you come… why do you do this to yourself?

Memories flooded back to her as she walked to the side of the building.

They were deep within the structure, having gone down the flight of stairs leading underground. There was a large circular pool in the middle of the room, floating flowers decorating its surface. Pillars surrounded the outside, stone stairs leading to the ring around the pool. It was almost beautiful…

Splashes from clashing foes, two others wounded to the side of the room. She was crouched with a demon hunter, the two in the center of the room looked like they were twins. The same man, but one was just a shade of the other. Best not to mention that out loud of course… it was always something that set him off.

Everyone was worn out, power surging through the whole room. She hated that she had partly been at fault to lead to this moment. What the fel was she thinking when she made a deal with a demon? A fair amount of the pain she suffered was from not ‘accepting his gift.’ She’d take the pain rather than have herself corrupted more than she already was.

Now this demon hunter had been captured, drawn him out, and they were faced with the current predicament.

His eyes turned on the two of them, her’s meeting him. What was that look? What was he planning? A surge of magic was sensed behind them… a portal? Wait a minute… WAIT A MINUTE!

No no no no no!

The hum of magic began to concentrate around him and the shade. She couldn’t leave him behind! She’d caused this mess! He shouldn’t have to pay for this! She fought the arms that reached through the portal, calling out to him. Blue began to tint the whole room. No! Magic surged through the room, ripping at her arm before she was forced through the portal.

Three were perched on a nearby cliff, her arm ripped to shreds. Not that such a thing was a hindrance to the undead. She sprang to her feet, just in time for an explosion to go off from a nearby building, watching as it collapsed in on itself.

No…

Tears streamed down her face.

No no no no!

Larregis!!

A snarl ripped from her throat, hand moving to her head as the memories tattered out. She found the hole in the side of the structure she had been looking for, slipping inside. Some of the stairs leading down managed to stay intact, paws carrying her down them. She stopped as she came to a large pile of rubble… but there was something in front of it. A runeblade with a helmet resting on top of it. She’d managed to recover both items after the fact, leaving them here as some kind of memorial. Crystal-ice flowers surrounded the area, each addition of them marking a year in which she’d come to pay her respects.

Taking the new addition of flowers wrapped in paper, she began to arrange them around the rubble, laying a few at the base of the blade. When she was done, she knelt in front of the sword, one hand moving to rest on top of the helmet. A small chuckle escaped from her maw, “I know you would be so disappointed to know I keep coming here… you’d want me to move on… so would everyone else… but I can’t. I really am weak.”

She reached up, removing the collar from her neck. A flicker surrounded her before the façade dropped from her form. Her patchwork pelt took over, hand slipping the neck piece into the pocket of her vest.

“But I miss you… I just wish you knew that…”

Her head lowered, unaware of just how long she was sitting there for, racking her brain for answers… Why can’t I just move on? Why didn’t I just stay at home? My husband is just as important… why… I hate it when Marie is right. I hate it! Why can’t I just fucking move on from you!

Finally she managed to stand up, turning away from the memorial. She opened another gate… but not to the Estate. She stepped through, falling into the snow instead of grabbing a nearby rock. Thunder roared across the sky, metal structures towering over her on the nearby mountains. Storm Peaks… so appropriately named…

The beast pushed herself from the snow, brushing it off her suit. Eyes moved around before she began her walk. The chill was welcoming along her fur. It was familiar. She walked until she came to the cliff’s edge, peering over at the drop below. Claws dug into the rock, keeping her along the mountain’s side, guiding to a circular, mechanical door. It whirled, opening for her signature.

It didn’t take long for her to step inside, the continued grind and whirling of mechanics filling her ears as she made her way down to the ground floor of this place. The greatest collection of items, experiments, and written texts her father had been able to gather over the years. She’d paid the cost to be able to enter this place, and it acted as sort of a sanctuary.

She came to the main room, dragging herself to the couch. She laid across it, facing the back. Her hands moved to her head, curling in on herself. What was wrong with her? Marie was right about her… she should be with Alexander and her husband… not hiding here in the past. Damn it all…

I miss you…

#bitch in armor - salena #annoying sibling - marie #novembria canon #((Happy Father's Day everyone!)) #((I've been planning this for months!)) #((So I hope you all enjoy!)) #Event: A moment of silence

[punsandfuturekingsmen-archive]

👑 ((I'm curious, if there is one))

👑   For a Royal AU

//hmmmmmmm

it’s difficult right now to give anything super detailed of personal, but perhaps Salena and her husband are the tough but fair and kind rulers of their kingdom, and one day out of the blue, Arthur turns up on their doorstep, injured and in need of serious help. It’s very clear he’s not from around here, but they have no idea where he’s from, and he’s not saying anything, either. In fact, he’s really not saying much at all.

#answering things #ooc #tristan rambles #royal au #ask meme answers #crown meme #he's the prince elsewhere and was very lucky to end up in a place like novembria #it's the only reason he survived jdjd #talesofnovembria

[fontriver]

Shaquilla font by Putra Novembria Candra Kusuma

#script #fonts #Typography #lettering #design #web design #type #TTF #font #typeface #artwork

[tinynickelbanditkid-blog]

Soun Sauté Recipe, How to Cook Soun Let It Be More Tasty! SOUN TUMIS ⁣ By Jenny Novembria⁣ (ig) INGREDIENTS: ⁣ 2 ounces of glass noodles, soak hot water, lift, drain⁣ 2 ounces of shrimp, peel the skin⁣ 1 fruit large carrots uk, cut a match⁣ 2 stems onion, cut 2⁣ SPEED: ⁣ 1/2 tsp ground pepper ⁣ 1 tbsp sweet soy sauce⁣ 1 tbsp salty soy sauce⁣ 1 tbsp oyster sauce⁣ 1/2 onion large uk, long slices ⁣ 5 cloves of garlic, chopped ... Source link

#Cook #Recipe #Sauté #Soun #Tasty

[lovejenner]

950, octubre, 18:

Facta commutacione XV kalendas novembrias anno XV regnante Ludovicho rege, filium Karoloni. Sig+num Gundirigus. Sig+num Ermesinda, qui hanc commutacione fecimus et firmare rogavimus.

Sig+num Renulfus. Sig+num Ragafredus. Sig+num Placidus.

Agilus, presbiter, quia hanc commutacione scripsi et ss., die et anno evidenter expressum.

Permuta hecho por Gundirigus y su mujer Ermesinda a Salla, de su…

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[salenakingston]

Another bit of backstory. I’ve really been enjoying writing these snippets. Prompt submissions are still open!

Prompt: None

Warnings: Blood, Violence, Death, Corpses/Bodies (minor), Cannibalism (minor)

Timeline of Events: Whitegale Estate (Backstory)

Total Word Count: 4,273 words

“I’m surprised you saw someone so new to the complex.”

“It is rare indeed, but there’s something peculiar about him.”

“Yes, I noticed that too.”

“And your thoughts?”

“He isn’t a greater risk than any of the other agents.”

“This won’t be the only time he appears.”

“I know, but because he is not a threat, or has proven what he is capable of, it is left to simpler decisions for now.”

“If I may interject.”

“Yes?”

“I might be able to help.”

“You have a plan? Why the interest in him?”

“It’s part of my job to assess new agents. Besides, you’ve never seen anyone connected to me before. I’ve noticed some quirks of my own. This plan is not without consequence, but may be an efficient way to learn more about him.”

“Very well. Let’s hear it.”

----

Malceum paced his small room, his mind racing ever since he had returned. He hated that she had been right in her own assessment. He had insisted she allowed him to give her a ‘proper’ physical, checking how her body was currently against everything that was listed in her records. He wondered if it was to prove a point, or for entertainment, that she granted his request. She had been compliant through the entire process, obeying every instruction he offered.

Part of him wondered why she changed her tune so quickly, when she had the confidence to mouth off to him before. How was it that the mention of one woman could make her flip a switch? It didn’t make any sense, just like her own assessment. Everything matched up with her records.

A body that was functioning, but only just enough. Every piece of her seemed to have some kind of problem. The beast seemed to entertain him further, having taken a seat next to her bed so they could discuss some treatment options. Mistake number one was suggesting options of a magic-based nature. Since the moment he’d walked into her room, she never raised his voice to him. Sure, she offered him plenty of sass, but not anything above her acceptive tone. The animal finally began to show its fangs, quite literally. Her tone grew sharp, growling echoed in her voice.

“Absolutely not,” she had said. Why? Even though the surgeon was confident in his skills, he knew based solely on facts that magic could offer more than just his bare hands. Who would want traditional means over something like that? Ok, if she was going to make such a fuss about it, then best not to revisit the subject. Either that or press her another time.

There had to be some kind of solution. That’s what he kept telling himself.

Mistake number two was trying to negotiate a further treatment plan. Anything he tried to prescribe to her was something she had already tried, or was shot down. “I already make use of the oxygen tank whenever I am in here or on down time. Too many drugs will either mess with my senses, or make it so I will have to take an extended leave from my work. Neither I am willing to accept,” she had said then. She was so damn stubborn.

He had half a mind to discharge her from work anyways, but he feared her. And he feared his employer. She didn’t seem like someone who would lash out at him, but her short temper and growing frustration could fester, putting him in the line of fire.

He had to save his own hide, even though he didn’t know why he bothered.

In the end, he cleared her just like the rest of them.

And that left him here, pacing, wondering if he had made the right decision.

His racing mind wasn’t doing the headache he had developed any favors. His lack of sleep was nothing new, but extended sessions always took a toll on him. Whenever he did sleep, nightmares were there to greet him. There was no safe haven for him, not even in a place as protected as the Whitegale Estate.

A knocking at his door guided him back to reality, “Y-Yes?”

He couldn’t see who was on the other side, as he kept his door locked. It was one of the reasons that kept him from getting close to the other personnel he worked with. It kept him from being a danger to those around him, and kept them from seeing the mess of a human being he had become. It was a gentle voice, probably one of the nurses. She had given another knock on the door, probably just to make sure he knew she was still there, “Mr. Whitegale is looking for you.”

Again? So soon? Why? Had Salena blabbed to him about their discussion? One hand moved to his head, the pounding growing worse from the onslaught of questions. He won’t know until he gets there, and he could not keep his employer waiting, “T-Than-nk y-you. I’ll be t-the-ere so-oon.” He could hear her footsteps leaving the door, leaving him alone once more.

Well, as alone as he could ever be. He would never be truly alone.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long he was standing still before he found the will to make his way to the door. The halls were empty, and one look outside the window showed why. Night blanketed the sky, the only light coming from the moon and stars. This just made him question more. He couldn’t have been isolating himself for that long. Why would his employer want to see him at such a late hour? Had someone been brought in late? Then why single him out?

And why allow him to come on his own time? No one else had come to bring his attention back towards the summon.

Malceum’s eyes fell on the door standing between him and the man on the other side. He had done his best to get his trembling hands to calm, swallowing down his nervousness. Alexander had not been unfair to him so far, in fact the man had been rather generous. There was no reason to believe that would change now. Hand grasped at the knob, turning, and then he stepped into the office.

Alexander sat behind a paper filled desk, two chairs sitting at the far side of where he was. Their eyes met upon his entrance, door closing behind him. He moved his hands together, doing his best to mask the shaking that he couldn’t seem to get rid of. If it wasn’t out of nervousness, then it had something to do with him.

“Malceum. Thank you for coming. I know this seems rather sudden. I wanted to start with thanking you for taking care of Salena. I know she can be hard to handle, but she means well.”

“N-No pr-robl-lem. I-It’s my j-job-b to t-tak-ke ca-are of th-hos-se y-you s-sen-nd to me.”

“Yes, I am aware, but she updated me on the talk you had.” Of course she had. Why would he have expected otherwise? He couldn’t help the way his eyes lowered at that statement, Alexander noticing the change in expression. If he wasn’t so tired, he was sure the older man would have given a chuckle, “You have nothing to worry about. A lot of this is new for you, and she’s a rather special case. Just give her some time, she’ll grow on you.”

D-Doub-bt it-t.

“Anyways, the reason I called for you is because something has come up.”

“D-Did y-you-ur w-wif-fe see me a-ag-gain?”

“Not this time.” No? Then why him? Was this some kind of medical emergency? He could hear the shuffling sound of more papers, a few laid out in front of him, as if he were looking over some kind of list. He looked up to the surgeon soon after, “I have a mission that I would like for you to go on.”

“Me? A-Are y-yo-ou s-sur-re?”

“I know it’s outside of your job requirements, but you were asked for specifically.” Asked for? What? Who would want him to come along for anything? Was this something that would need someone of his medical skills? The questions wouldn’t stop coming every time the older man spoke. He couldn’t seem to comprehend why anyone would want him. He didn’t even know anybody, as he had purposefully isolated himself.

He couldn’t keep silent, “W-Who a-ask-ked for m-me?”

“I did.”

Both men turned their heads to the leftmost chair sitting in front of the desk. A familiar figure stood up from where it was sitting, moving so that Malceum could see. Her.

Salena Kingston.

Why?

She was dressed, not in a gown like he had seen when they were in her medical room. This time, she wore something that he could only describe as something out of a fantasy book. He could tell the material was made of leather, sticking tightly against her skin? Fur? She was far too complicated for him to make coherent thoughts.

Salena moved her arm against the top of the chair, leaning against it slightly. He couldn’t help but notice how relaxed compared to when they were in the medical wing. Did she hate it there? He couldn’t blame her, especially with how many times she seemed to wind up there. Her gaze was fixated on him, causing a small shiver to move down his spine, “I am going out hunting. I wanted to see if you would like to come along.”

“H-Hun-nt-ting?”

“I do it every now and then. Sometimes they are prompted by Alexander, but that is not the case. I thought you might like to get out of the estate for a bit.”

Yes.. but why him? He just couldn’t understand it.

He did. Clever little mutt. She knew there was something wrong with his host. This was an attempt to draw him out. That had to be the only reason. He wouldn’t allow it. The headache seemed to grow worse at that moment, a voice in the back of Malceum’s mind being the only thing that kept him from moving his hands to cradle his head, “Don’t you dare. It’s a trick. I will not have you expose me more than you already have. You’re going to go right back to your room, unless you want me to make you suffer more.”

“I-I d-don’t-t th-hin-nk I wo-oul-ld be th-he b-bes-st ch-hoic-ce for s-som-meth-hing-g l-lik-ke t-this-s.”

“I’d be willing to make a deal with you, Sorrowgrave. All I ask is that you come on this one hunt with me. I know Alexander pays you, as he does everyone else. I can pool part of your earnings to the same place my money goes. I can have small shipments of dreamless sleep potions sent to you with this. You wouldn’t have to rely on me if you want them.”

This bitch. She knows what he wants, and he truly does want this relief. He can’t even remember the last time he slept without having a nightmare. He knew either way he was going to suffer. The hollow wouldn’t ever stop until he agreed to surrender his being. The only way he would continue on was getting any small mercy that he could.

“A-Alr-righ-ht.”

Both Salena and Alexander gave a nod, the older man turning his attention to the wolf, “Do you have a place you’ll be going?”

“Yes.” Strange that she mentioned no specifics. Was it not necessary to tell her employer where she was taking them? Guess not giving the accepting nod from Alexander. She moved past him, one hand moving up. It was that same magic she had used before, bigger this time. The opening was large enough for the two of them to move through it. Her head turned enough to catch him in view, “Follow me. This portal is going to put a strain on your body, but you’ll be fine shortly after we arrive on the other side.”

He nods.

She takes the first step through, followed by him. He could feel the strain she was talking about. When he stepped out, it took everything in him not to buckle down under the weight. When his vision refocused, he could see Salena not too far ahead of him. She didn’t have the same strength he did, find her form against the earth. It looked almost as if the very air around her was pushing her down. He should have guessed that if this magic put a strain on the body, then of course she would have it worse than him. But then why travel by these portals in the first place? What was the point?

While she recovered, his eyes moved around the land. He didn’t travel much, but where they came to looked like no place he’d ever seen before. The grass under them looked washed out, bits of dirt poking through in patches. There were trees, though few given it seemed they were along hills. Even this seemed like it was devoid of life. Near death was a good way to describe it.

Finally he could hear Salena getting up onto her feet. She dropped the portal they had come through, pushing towards the top of the hill. It would be best for him to follow her. Her eyes peered over the top, looking down at the base of their hiding place. He could see a stone tower in the distance, small patrols and camps around it. Both men and women were patrolling. Their clothing was rather strange. It was a mixture of white and red. They looked like how crusaders would have been dressed in human history.

Surely they hadn’t gone back in time somehow.

Malceum had barely noticed that Salena had begun sneaking ahead without him. Wait, what was she doing? Why were they here? Why did it look like she was stalking them?

Wait…

Wait!

He only just seemed to notice the sheen of a blade resting at her side. No, not just one blade, two of them. One of her hands was gripping on. Her eyes narrowed creeping closer. He wanted to yell at her, call her back and demand to know what she was planning to do. There was nothing he could do as red bagan to cloud his vision. Blood spilled from the crusaders, her blade, claws, or even her teeth finding ways to ravage them. This wasn’t hunting, it was slaughter.

OH? Seems she’s a murderer just like you are. I’ve changed my mind. Maybe you should go down there and join her.

No. He couldn’t do this. He could say that this time. He wouldn’t risk drawing himself to the surface with her around. He had to do something other than let her continue.

She had been careful up to this point, picking them off one by one. Blood stained her mouth and clothes. She could see him moving down the hill, not paying too much attention to his surroundings. Eyes narrowed as she noticed a scarlet moving behind him. He must have been spotted. Deal with the threat themselves rather than raise the alarm. He watched as she stomped her foot down, but nothing seemed to happen.

Then a gurgling noise rang out behind him. He turned around to see the crusader… impaled on a spike of thick ice, blood dripping down onto him. His body was shaking again, that feeling of a thrill he was missing out on wracking around in his brain. She moved over to him, trying to get his attention, but he couldn’t pay attention. He could see that she looked to the side, voices crying out.

They were calling out one thing.

‘Death Knight.’

What did that mean? He wasn’t whatever that was.

He seemed to come back into focus, seeing that Salena had turned on the growing mass. Was she ready to take them all on by herself? Just how much blood was she willing to spill? Taking a tight grip of her wrist, he began to drag her away. She seemed to give him a surprised look, snarling as her lips turned up. He could see another string of magic leave from her hand, the other reaching for a loose part of his duster. She had taken him into her arms, fleeing to the hills.

They managed to lose their attackers, the trembling in his body stopping as they did. He hated that he could still smell iron in the air. Once she was sure the crusaders were gone, he was set down, a bloody corpse being tossed at his feet. Had her magic grabbed one of them? Just what the hell was she playing at? Just what kind of life had he actually landed in joining up with this lot?

He couldn’t stand it any longer.

“W-Wha-at t-the fuck wa-as th-hat?”

“I told you we were going hunting. You weren’t paying attention to what was going on around you. You gave us away.”

“I-I m-mad-de it cle-ear I wa-as not-t t-the b-bes-st for th-his. Y-You j-jus-st mur-rde-ered t-them-m.”

“They deserve it.”

“W-Who a-are-e you to j-jud-dge t-the-em?”

“Someone who has first hand experience with them. I’m far from the first person who despises them.”

“T-Tha-at’s b-bes-side th-he p-poin-nt!” Why couldn’t she seem to get it through her thick skull?

“Then you would rather I kill someone that doesn’t deserve it?”

What?! Was she serious?

“K-Kil-ll no o-one!”

“I can’t do that.” She… She what?

“W-Wha-at are you t-talk-king a-abo-out? Y-Yes you c-can-n!”

He noticed her eyes narrow down again. There was that shiver again. How was it that both women he interacted with seemed to have eyes that bore down past his skin? He almost felt himself take a step back, “No. I can’t. If I stopped killing, I would drive myself insane.” Had she really killed that much? Was she so much like him that she got a thrill out of it? He hated this. He hated her. He hated that she bribed him into coming along on this.

“I don’t see why you are making a fuss with me. I thought you would need something like this.”

Now it was his turn to narrow his eyes back at her. It didn’t seem to have the same effect that her’s did on him, “Y-You d-don-n’t kn-now me.”

“You’re right Sorrowgrave, I don’t. However, it’s part of my job to keep tabs on the new recruits, and that includes you. You have little ticks. You obviously don’t get enough sleep, someone with a stutter is not too worrisome, but you’re constantly twitching. I know you’re not nervous, otherwise you wouldn’t have stood up to me like you did. You’re acting more like an addict that hasn’t had his fix in a long time.”

“H-How-w w-woul-ld y-you kn-now?”

“Because I was just like you, Sorrowgrave. You will drive yourself crazy if you continue on like this.”

He wasn’t sure if it was humor in a fighter trying to give medical advice to a surgeon, or her lack of logic that made him relax slightly, “Y-You-u’re s-supp-pose-ed to d-dis-scour-rage ad-ddic-cts f-fro-om th-heir-r v-vic-ces.”

“My own vice, unnatural as it is, can not be fixed. I have to hunt. I’m sorry you don’t see it the same way. I thought feeding your’s would be a temporary fix until I could figure out a better solution.”

“W-Why-y do you c-car-re?”

“Everyone can see that something is wrong with you. No one knows to what extent, but they can see the signs.” He could feel her hands reaching for the mask he wore across his mouth. His hands shot up, covering her own to keep her from removing it. She almost seemed to be smirking as he did this, “You see? I stand a good chance of helping you, all you have to do is let me.”

“Y-You w-won-n’t let-t me do th-he s-sam-me.”

“You did help me though. Your stitching is far better than my own, and I have no doubt you’ll be seeing a lot more of me. I’m one of Alexander’s best for a reason, but that means a greater risk. I’ll need someone like you.”

He hated this. He just wanted to go back to the estate. He wasn’t supposed to bond with anyone. They were a weakness, or even a target. The hollow made it clear he already had an interest in her, and this was certainly not helping. If he had control of his host, Malceum had no doubt he would be jittering with joy.

Was it worth trusting her though?

No one had ever shown him this sort of backwards kindness. She offered him mercy, and now here he was in her position, spitting it back in her face. Why?

Why did it have to be like this?

In his mental crisis, he had barely noticed that Salena was trying to remove his mask again. He honestly wasn’t sure why he felt his hands go lax, allowing her to do so. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary on first glance, but a spike in his headache made his lips curl up. Nothing but sharp teeth, just like her own. Her hands moved up again, forcing his mouth open. It was almost as if she could tell this was unnatural.

There was nothing special about him. He was as human as they come. Someone else had forced him to do this to himself.

And he didn’t take kindly to the impromptu investigation of his host. The pain in his head grew worse. It was as if the hollow was unwinding himself in his host’s mind, sticking thousands of wires through his brain. Mouth shut down along the beast’s arm, head pulling back to tear at the flesh.

Her head moved down, staring at him. There was that flicker she had seen before. Her arm raised in his grip, not allowing the shade or hair to block her view, “Caught you.”

Shit.

Why was she so still? Why wasn’t she bothered? He was a freak. He was trying to peel her own flesh away from her body. Why wasn’t she trying to stop him? Why didn’t she kill him like she was doing just a few moments ago? Why couldn’t he just let go? Let me go!

And he listened. Teeth removed themselves, his form staggering away from her. All she was trying to do was help him, and he had bitten her. She stepped closer to him, her hands moving to grip his arms. She lowered themselves down to the grass. He could hear her speaking, but couldn’t bring his eyes up to meet her own, “Sorrowgrave, let me help you. Feed the demon as it were, and let’s go back.”

She knew about him, but not what he was. How was it that she was on point? His eyes moved over to the body she dragged along with them. That trembling came back, and his stomach suddenly felt so empty. He scooted closer to the body, teeth sinking in. He could feel a hand moving along his back as he ate, hating himself every moment that passed.

Another portal opened, the familiar halls of the estate greeting them.

Again she fell to the floor, but this time he moved over to help her up.

Their bloody hands met one another.

They seemed to be standing in front of a door, one he had seen briefly in passing. He could see the halls leading to the medical wing from where they were standing. Wait… why were they here instead of heading to his room? He found his gaze up at her, a small portal at her side. Like before, she reached in, pulling out a familiar green vial. No. Don’t.

He will just break it again.

“I promised you I would get you a steady shipment of these, and I plan to keep that deal. You came with me. Start with this one for now.”

He reached out to take it from her, knowing what the outcome would be. If he didn’t try to take it, he would take over and do it for him. As his hand drew closer, she took a firm grip of his wrist. What the hell was she doing now? Her mouth lowered to the top of the vial, popping the opening with her teeth. The hand gripping his wrist moved up, forcing his mouth open again, the other hand pouring the liquid down his throat.

She knew. She knew what he would do, and acted accordingly. If he wasn’t suddenly feeling so tired, he would have thanked her.

He could vaguely feel her taking him into his arms. She adjusted him so she could open the door they were standing near. It was a furnished room, one that he couldn’t see very well with the darkness of night. One thing he could make out was a bed, one that he was being lowered into. This wasn’t his bed… so where were they? He would have to ask her when he woke. His mind began to fade, growing blank for the first time in years.

She watched him drift, finding her hand moving through his gray hairs before turning to leave. He’s had it rough, so sleeping in her bed would probably do him some good rather than the sub quality of the ones the medical personnel use. She quietly shut the door behind her, moving down the hall to a very familiar room.

The new door swung open, Alexander still sitting at his desk. Shutting the door behind her, she took a seat in front of him, “We have much to discuss.”

#my writing #tw; blood #tw; violence #tw; death #tw; bodies/corpses #tw; cannibalism #novembria #malceum #the good doctor #alastair #salena #the terrible trio

[salenakingston]

Decided to forgo the prompt thing this time around and write a little something that came to my head on my way home from work. Been writing a lot more backstory related stuff to the main trio, and I don’t intend to stop. It’s so fun to play around with.

Prompt: None

Warnings: Medical Procedures (minor), Blood

Timeline of Events: Whitegale Estate (Backstory)

Total Word Count: 3,117 words

The halls of this estate seemed to just go on and on. Guess that was to be expected when being invited to a place like this. The Whitegale name was one that stretched far beyond the reaches of Sweden, for a number of reasons. Alexander’s wealth and power was nothing to scoff at, but more than that, it was what he had chosen to do with it. He could very well be running his own country with the number of contacts he had, and the people that flocked to him on the promise of a good paycheck. The Whitegales never seemed to be short of work.

And that’s why he was here.

News articles continued to pile up on top of one another, the gap between his own kills becoming shorter and shorter. It seemed that since discovering his project had been a failure, he was not allowed much room to breathe. The demon had put up with him before then, no doubt already knowing the outcome before even his host had learned the price of dealing with those that were already dead.

Magic was real, but even in this new world, there were laws that had to be obeyed. No one could come back from the dead without being broken. Pleas and cries haunted the mind, be it in the waking world or when asleep.

He couldn’t stay at his office anymore, not without risking getting caught. His brain argued with him that he deserved to be taken in. He had lost count of how many lives he had stolen away, be it from those that deserved death or not. He did not care so long as he could get a laugh out of it. He would take.. And take.. And take until there was nothing left of who he once was. Life was slipping away from his fingers.

Sometimes he even wondered what the point of fighting was anymore.

Malceum had found himself on the steps of the estate, mostly by chance. Forced to flee his home country. It was quite the jump to make, Germany to Sweden. Anywhere else might have been a better idea, a place where he might be able to isolate himself so that he couldn’t thrive off the thrill of others… but there was one thing that drew him in to the promise the Whitegales proposed.

Stability.

A roof over his head.

A job.

He could be left wandering country to country without the promise of being able to see anyone. No one owed him anything, and he couldn’t very well work and move at the same time. He needed a new place to call his own. While the estate itself didn’t belong to him, since Alexander had taken him in, he was granted his own space along with the other medical personnel in the building. He had work, or at the very least, something to keep him occupied. On the plus side, with so many people around, he couldn’t just do as he pleased. Someone would notice if one of the staff went missing, or if he had slipped out of the building.

It was a bit of a win win actually.

Unfortunately, it didn’t keep the hollow’s witty commentary silenced.

Alexander had called upon him specifically for a task. Guess the man himself had been impressed by the surgeon’s work. At least that’s what he assumed before stepping inside the office. It was for a stranger reason that he had been chosen. Alexander’s wife had seen him in a vision. Said woman was quite the enigma. Seeing her was rare outside of briefings and events. He had gazed into her unseeing eyes, and could swear that she was somehow still staring back at him. It was enough to unsettle anyone.

He didn’t believe her vision, at least when it seemed like it was something so minor. It was just another surgical job. What did it matter if he was the one who did it, or someone else. Alexander had explained that he never questioned anything his wife had seen, nor was surprised at Malceum’s skeptic tone.

Well… whatever. He had a job to do.

Returning him back to his path through the halls. He had finally managed to figure out where he was going, though it probably helped that he dropped the files he had been flipping through from his eyesight. Anything already on a person’s medical record could help him to understand his patient’s body. Their strengths and weaknesses, at least on a physical level, and what kind of treatments one had already undergone. Which worked, and which ones did not.

But this file just left him dumbfounded.

It was for someone by the name ‘Salena Kingston.’ The first thing that struck him as odd was the inclusion of a ‘species’ tag on her records. Species? It labeled her a wolf, but this had to be some kind of mistake. True, magic was a possibility, but this just seemed too much of a stretch as to what could be considered real now. Humans seeing the future? Believable at the very least. Humans channeling enough energy to bring the souls of others back from the dead? He had seen it first hand. Humanized animals? Unheard of.

Brushing past this mistake, he got into the meat of her records. It baffled him that the list of problems with her physical attributes grew longer and longer with each person that had seen her, yet they had all cleared her to return to duty. Were all of them so negligent with their jobs, doing this on purpose so they could make another sum of money from their wealthy employer? Or was this Alexander’s own doing? It was clear he had contact with everyone on his medical team. Surely he wouldn’t be worse than the doctors.

Well, he wasn’t going to be like them.

Malceum stopped as he came to the medical wing. He knew the path here, but not to this specific room. It seemed strange to be directed to one room, as many others he had taken care of were spread through to whichever space was available. This was ‘her room.’ Just how often was this person here to have a room all of her own?

The surgeon steeled himself, and then opened the door. Strange that this door requires a pin number to open, sliding rather than opening like any normal door.

A pair of blue eyes peered over at him.

The door shut behind him, effectively locking him in the room with a literal beast. So that species part of her documents hadn’t been a typo after all. There, sitting in the bed, was a wolf with a humanized figure. He couldn’t find one thing to focus on, his eyes moving all around her. Her red face markings, visible scars across the top of her muzzle and neck, the curved notches in her ears, the traces of bags under her eyes, but mostly that piercing gaze that fell on him.

A gaze that seemed to be narrowing the longer he stood still. He even found his hands shaking slightly. No, it wasn’t fear that was causing this. He seemed delighted by this turn of events.

“Hey.”

What? Oh that was her voice.

“Are you going to stand there gawking at me, or are you actually going to do your job?”

Malceum was taken aback. Never in all his career could he recall a patient speaking to him in such a way. Annoyance replaced his surprised expression. Oh, he could tell he wasn’t going to enjoy taking care of this one. He set her file down on the small table next to her bed. As he drew closer, he noticed the tubes sticking out of her nose, a tank on the opposite side from where he was standing. Oxygen? Was she having trouble breathing? There were so many problems on the list, it was likely his brain skipped over it, much like the fact of her ‘species.’

“Hey.”

“Y-Yes, st-top.”

His hands were shaking again. She’ll be fun to play with.

Y-You ca-an’t-t.

Oh I’ll find a way.

He gave an audible sigh, an eyebrow raised on the woman? Wolf? In bed. Right, he must look like a crazy person. She was glaring at him at this point, so he might as well match her attitude, “W-well M-Ms. Kin-ngs-ston, I can h-hones-stly s-say in all m-my l-lif-fe I’ve n-nev-ver se-e-een s-som-meo-one as b-brok-ken as y-you are a-and-d s-stil-ll w-wil-llin-ng to m-mout-th off t-the p-per-rson w-who’s-s b-been a-assig-gned to h-help you.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble Sorrowgrave. You’re hardly the first person to be assigned to me as you put it.”

She knew who he was? He hadn’t even been here that long, and he’d never seen her before. Did Alexander tell her about him before summoning him? He mentally shook off that train of thought, scoffing at her, “S-So I’ve s-see-en, a-and it s-seem-ms n-non-ne of t-them-m h-have b-bee-en t-treat-tin-ng you p-pr-rop-perly.”

“And you think you can do better?”

“I k-know-w I c-can.”

“Doubtful.”

Now he was getting more than just annoyed. Were it not for the mask covering his mouth, he was sure his sharpened teeth would be flashing to accompany his growl, “Y-You d-doub-bt my s-sk-kills-s?”

Her tone didn’t change. From the moment she first started talking to him, it seemed she was intent on holding onto her level of sass, but content. Was it acceptance? It was too soon to tell. She didn’t shut up, “Oh no, I’m sure you’re great at what you do. I’m just saying I doubt there’s anything you can do that the other doctors haven’t already tried, or improve upon. My body’s fucked.”

Und-der-rst-tatem-ment-t.

“T-Then-n c-care to ex-xp-plain to m-me w-why y-you’v-ve b-bee-en cl-lear-red e-ev-ver-ry s-sin-ngle t-tim-me y-you’ve b-bee-en h-her-re wh-hen ev-ven you are a-awa-are th-hat s-somet-th-hing is w-wron-ng w-with you?”

“Have you been paying attention? I told you there’s nothing that you can do to improve my condition. You’ll either clear me like the rest of them or I spend the rest of my life sitting in bed. Sounds far too dull.”

“Wh-hy are y-you h-her-re t-then?”

The bitch seemed to roll her eyes at that question, “Did Alexander not even bother to tell his new surgeon why he was being sent here? Just send him off with a file and expect him to wing it?”

Obviously she wasn’t pleased, but was that directed at him, or at her employer? She had to be working for the man if she was in her own private room, but also referred to the Whitegale man by his first name. How was it that she seemed more annoyed than he was having to put up with this? He glared over at the file, as if it had committed a crime by simply being in the room, “H-he s-said his w-wif-fe s-saw me h-her-re in a v-vis-sion.”

That was the thing that seemed to shut her up. Her attitude melted away, head moving up slightly from its slouched over position, “Cassandra saw you? I see.”

So she knew something about the man’s wife too. Just what was so special about this woman and what she could see? Why was it a driving force for so many decisions made around here? It was largely irrelevant for the present moment. He still had a job to do. He found his face easing slightly, “N-Now t-th-hen. W-What-t are y-you in f-for t-tod-day?”

“I need stitches. The staff have been able to do what they could for the wounds, but they won’t heal properly without that work, and Alexander won’t let me do the ones I can reach myself. I’ve been instructed not to move as much until someone got here to take care of the problem.”

She’s capable of doing her own stitch work? Perhaps their employer didn’t want her to do it, feeling more confident with a professional surgeon on staff. Guess his reputation from his home country had something to do with that.

There was a spot for Malceum to prepare for this small task, doing his best to get his hands to stop shaking before he got to work. When he turned back around, he noticed that she had placed her wrists above leather straps on each side of her bed. Restraints, yet she was so casual about their use. She was looking so expectantly at him, “I d-don’t-t s-see a n-nee-ed to hav-ve to u-use t-thos-se.”

“Look Sorrowgrave, I know you’re new here, but trust me on this one. Unless you want to risk my claws finding your skin or impaled on accident, you will strap me down.��

“Y-You c-can’t-t do wor-rse t-than-n wh-hat has al-lre-eady b-bee-en d-done to me.”

“What?”

What?

She didn’t seem to buy that, trying again, “Trust me on this one Sorrowgrave. You’re going to want me restrained. I wouldn’t ask you otherwise if I didn’t think there was any danger to this.” It baffled him in a way that she was willing to be tied down, for his own sake. She was aware of her own power, able to assume she had some from the way she phrased her words, and took her own measures to ensure the staff’s safety. Seeing no need to fight her further, he stepped over to her bed, tightening the straps as tight as he could around each wrist. Her eyes turned forward, waiting now.

He only stepped away to gather his materials before coming to her side, “I’ll n-nee-ed to re-em-move y-your g-gow-wn.”

“Go ahead.”

He had done this so many times before, so there was no need to be so hesitant. The gown was laid across the railing closest to him, his eyes focusing to the new bundle of white and red along her shoulder. So one wound there. He could see the same along her upper chest, another spot along her side, and one last one near her thigh. Whatever mission she must have been on didn’t include an instruction on being careful.

His hands moved around the bandages, removing them. Sure enough, the cuts were deep, jagged in some places. He couldn’t help but notice the ones along her upper chest were different. They were straighter, each one with more than one line next to them. They looked very similar to scars that already littered her upper body. Eyes narrowed, staring on them, and she must have caught onto him again, “As much as I would love for you to keep gawking over my body, do you mind getting on with it? I hate sitting still.”

A low growl passed through his lips, sitting back up so he was at a better angle to do his job. No point in entertaining her rebuke. The sooner he could get these stitches done, the sooner he could leave. A syringe moved towards her wrist, sticking her in a safe place. It shouldn’t take too long for her body to grow numb. While he waited, his eyes moved over the wounds. Whichever medical personnel came to see her before him did a good job cleaning them out. All of them were clear of any signs of infection. Good. He would have hated to do more work than necessary.

He was always careful with his work, testing to make sure the anesthesia was in effect before the needle even touched her skin. Salena barely moved during the entire procedure, making this far easier. Guess he was right that she actually didn’t need to worry about the restraints. He couldn’t help but manage a smug look behind his mask. Good thing she couldn’t see that.

Clean bandages were wrapped back where the dirty ones used to be, leaving the surgeon with nothing else to do aside from clean up. He took care of himself before returning to his patient’s side, freeing her wrists and offering the discarded gown back to her. She snatched it from him, draping it back over her form. Guess his work here was done, so he could leave.

Before he could input the pin to the door panel, he heard her voice again, “Wait.”

Wait? Why? He thought she would be thrilled to have him leave her space. She was rubbing one of her wrists when he turned his eyes back onto her. Her gaze moved to the side, “Thanks. Let me compensate you for your work. I know something you may appreciate more than whatever Alexander will pay you.”

Weird. What could she possibly offer someone like him. Eyes widened when a pocket of magic She stuck her arm inside of it, pulling out a vial. What had he just witnessed? Truthfully, he wasn’t sure, but it fascinated him. Just what was this woman capable of?

Eyes trailed down to the vial, the magic having disappeared, and this what was offered out to him. He took it in his hands, fingers rolling it back and forth as it rested along his palm. The vial contained some kind of green liquid. He was about to question her when she noticed his confusion, “It’s a dreamless sleep potion. I can see the dark bags under your eyes. If they’re anything like mine, I can guess partly why you’re not getting sleep at night. Figured it might help.”

“I-It’s a w-what-t?”

It’s a what?!

One was thrilled, and the other panicking. He couldn’t lose the only outlet he still had for the time being to break down his host. Malceum’s hand began to tremble, grip moving around the vial. Audible cracks from the glass rang in the small room. He tried to save this small act of mercy she had offered him, but he was stronger. The vial shattered, potion spilling between his fingers. Tiny tears pricked at his eyes, red mixing with green along his hand.

He turned around, punching in the code to allow himself to leave, racing down the hall once the door opened.

She didn’t miss the orange flickering in his gaze.

He could tell she was a danger. She had something that could help him, and he made them flee. He wanted to go back to her, beg her for another one, but it was useless. He was going to make him pay for this new found hope.

Salena’s eyes didn’t leave the man, even as he sprinted past the window looking into her room. There was something very wrong with him. Cassandra saw him being sent to her. There was some reason they were meant to meet. Her gaze shifted down to the puddle on the floor, green mixing with red. He wanted that.

Something else made him break it.

And she would find out what.

#my writing #tw; medical talk #tw; blood #novembria #malceum #The Good Doctor #alastair #salena #the terrible trio

[salenakingston]

Reference Sheet of my gal Salena, updated from her previous one. This one was made by the amazing @damasath!

I am just in awe, as there are no words to describe just how amazing this turned out. Again, thank you so much Dama for this amazing piece, and all the new stuff you and I worked together on to add to her!

#novembria #salena

[salenakingston]

A shorter one this time around, but an idea that came to my mind that I really wanted to write out. I’ll return to some more of the backstory I’ve been doing soon!

Prompt: None

Warnings: Blood, Body Horror, Suicide Mention

Timeline of Events: Whitegale Estate (Doctor’s Defeat)

Total Word Count: 2,739 words

The mind was truly a fascinating place. The basic layout of any person’s mind tended to follow the same pattern: hallways, doors, and locks for those certain doors that weren’t meant to be opened. From there, it was a matter of how an individual perceived the rest of that space.

When it came to his former host, the hallways that held his doors were methodical in nature. His own timeline of events had been laid out with few things locked away. In fact, most of his locks didn’t appear until after he started poking around in his host’s head, a futile attempt to keep him from having more to break him with. More telling was the way he had chosen to represent the entities present in his mind. For the longest time, it had just been the two of them, each form represented by a single color. Green was his host, and he was orange. They were the same colors as their representative eyes. These forms were usually free of any physical feature, save for the faces. Faded. Even with a certain color present, it was almost as if their forms were see-through.

Surely if he had been allowed to play more with his former host, then he would have completely faded when he took over.

But here he was now, wandering a hall of his new host. Where he would normally be annoyed for the turn of events that led him to this predicament, had rather been replaced by interest. There wasn’t much emotion to feed on presently, but the one lingering thing he could always cling to was his own gain. Even if he was forced to try and tackle someone else, it built upon his original experiment.

Her mind was very different.

Where Malceum’s was nearly a straight line, her’s seemed to contain many turns. The main hallway of her mind held snippets of surface level memories, ones that she didn’t seem to mind sharing. Each turn held a set collection, each catered to a certain event or theme. It was almost as if they were parts of her life she had tried to hide away. An impossible feat, but the best one could do without interference.

One corner of her mind had been molded into his own personal space. He hadn’t felt the need to do this with his former host, as he had far more control over his mind space than he did here. That annoyance came in the form of the crystal he was locked in. It was warded, but that didn’t keep him out of her head, so long as she was wearing the necklace his prison was attached to. It made tackling her a far greater challenge, but not impossible.

This space was cold, as if it really needed to be anything else. What could he possibly want for himself? What difference would it make once he assumed control of her mind? He’d have free reign to change everything into his image. He already knew the first thing he would do, and that was to put his host at the forefront of everything. She’d be able to watch as he tore everything apart, making her life his own.

Hands moved behind his back, orange gaze fixated on the sterile space around him. He came back here if he ever felt the need to retreat his presence back into the crystal, a tiny, green one floating at the very back of this room. A representation of that place, down to the most exact detail. It also gave him a place to stay when he wasn’t opening her doors, or she wasn’t even here to entertain him.

It would be hard for anyone to focus on the waking world as well as what was going on in their mind at the same time.

But he was patient.

Night was the best time for her to appear, at least when she wasn’t using those damn potions. Tiny bottles of green liquid had been the item that thwarted him without fail, but he had come to notice a flaw once his former host started getting his own shipments. One came every month, but were limited on the supply. If he didn’t destroy them outright, then it was a matter of spacing their use. She had explained once that the potions came from her world, and that materials were not cheap.

Which left for a limited batch. The same was true for her own supply, even if she made more than his former host did. He wondered why that was the case. What was the point of hanging onto money if they were the only thing she bought? She already had a home, and someone willing to supply her with what she needed to survive. Why work for a paycheck and not use what was being pooled in? Perhaps it simply made little sense to him as he would have no need for such things.

All that mattered was seeing his experiment through to the end. He already had every tool necessary to accomplish this.

It wasn’t hard to pinpoint the feeling of her presence when she finally appeared. Even from inside of her mind, he could monitor the passage of time. Night had fallen on them, and it seemed she was going to finally be sleeping without one of her precious ‘mercies in a bottle.’

He floated away from his space, faster than he probably should have. Was it excitement that drew him towards her? The chance to start bringing her to ruin? The nightmare he might be able to inflict on her? So many variables he would get to play around with.

He didn’t have to go far to find her, standing as if she were waiting for him.

Their projections in her mind were nothing like his former host. Where they could have been compared to ghosts before, they were solid in her mind. He kept just about every aspect of his physical form, or at least the one he had chosen to take. She was the one that was vastly different.

Her body was covered in patches of different colored fur, as if parts of other bodies had been taken to make her own. She was like her own Frankenstein's monster, the only difference being that he couldn’t see the stitch work that connected the pieces together. Her scars were still present here, just as they were on the outside. Her eyes appeared more tired than normal, no doubt due to his own tampering. Her hair was messier, not braided and decorated like she usually wore it.

He recalled the first time he had seen her like this. It had been on a mission while he was still within his former host. He had been sent out on a mission for medical assistance, the bitch tagging along as combat support. She had gotten overwhelmed, one of their attackers making the collar, or rather choker that he liked to refer to as nothing more than a glorified collar, had been torn off. All at once, her body seemed to flicker, making the appearance she held in her mind be the one that was before them. It was later explained to them that her collars held devices that changed the perception of her appearance to those around her. Clever girl, but that left the question of why.

Not even his former host knew that answer.

And it was one truth he had been keen to discover since being able to enter her mind. Her locks would take longer to break, but he just had to wait.

He finally found his smile, floating over to her. He hovered over her shoulders, letting his head rest to the side of her own, “Good evening dear. I see you are without your potion tonight.”

She said nothing, just letting her eyes follow his movements. Her arms hung at her side, gaze moving back forward when they couldn’t follow his movements behind her. He had noticed she tensed when he positioned himself above her back. Always her back. Another mystery to uncover.

He chuckled softly, “Come on dear. It’s no fun if you don’t talk to me.”

“There’s not much point in talking.”

How curious. Even his former host was fine to chat with him. Then again, it was more arguing than it was talking. Still, he had to follow up on her comment, “Oh? And why’s that?”

“You’ll do whatever you want when I fall asleep. Inevitably fall into one of your nightmares or my own.” Oh that’s right, she already had nightmares. It had been one of her reasons to prompt offering those potions to his former host in the first place.

“Perhaps, but that’s awfully boring.”

“What is it you want, Doctor?”

Straight to the point hmm? What a vague question. In all the time she spent stopping him from taking over his former host, what he wanted should have been obvious. Why bother asking that question then? She must have meant at the present moment then right? He found himself draping his arms over her shoulder, leaning his head against her fur, “Can’t a guy have a little chat with his roommate? I’d like to be able to get to know you.”

Roommate. How curious on his own part.

He could see that her gaze was finally turning on him, narrowing as frustration filled her. What a delicious emotion he would be able to flip back around on her. For a moment, he was sure that she was going to bite back at him with a sassy retort. She was really good at doing that.

Then it faded. She went back to that tired look, “It doesn’t matter if we talk in that regard Doctor. If I don’t talk, you’ll just go poking around my mind anyways. We’ve both seen the locks, and the only thing keeping you from breaking them with more ease than Malceum’s is the wards.”

Yes… that damned prison.

Still, he tried to keep playing along. She hadn’t drifted away, meaning that while her body was pushing her to sleep, her mind was still racing, “True, but telling me would be so much easier for the both of us. I don’t think you would enjoy me mentally breaking down all your walls now would you?”

He planned to do it anyways, otherwise how else would she be forced to bend to his will rather than her own?

That seemed to get her attention, but not in a way he expected. Where he expected to find more frustration, maybe even anger like his former host, he felt… nothing. This whole place felt so empty all of a sudden. In fact, he would even go so far as to say he felt drained.

Impossible. Beings are full of emotions. How?

His form fell down towards the ground, Salena taking a few steps away from him. 

When he looked back up at her, he could only see a hollow look in her eyes. It was like she had flipped a switch, then all her emotions vanished in thin air. That was unnerving enough, but the far more concerning matter was that she had a much more effective way of bringing him to his knees in a place where he felt he had control over the playing field. He knew more when it came to moving and manipulating the mind from the inside. How dare she do this to him.

She laughed, but it was so dry. It was devoid of anything that made it sound like it was in response to humor, “You want to know so badly?” Even her tone was hollow. Her voice was so monotone, yet hushed in a way. She stood over him now, her posture barely changed from how it was when he first came to meet her, “You want to know all my triggers so you can torment me like you did Malceum?”

He could see her form flickering. Her body has seemed to shift back to what it looked like with her perception devices on, save for now the scars were gone. In their place were a multitude of bloody wounds. He could tell that in some places, skin was peeled away… bones showing beneath the flesh. What just happened? He couldn’t take his eyes off her, “How about the torture I went through to get rid of my emotions?”

Before he could say anything back, finding it already difficult to do so when his own energy was being kept away from him, her body changed again. The wounds were gone, but now a large grin covered her muzzle. Her lips were almost ear to ear, teeth showing, “How about the monster I used to be?”

Another flicker, another change.

The grin faded, but now everything around them seemed to physically flicker. The gray pixels surrounding them looked like the static of a television that was no longer functioning. Her hands had moved up to her ears, “How about all the voices buzzing through my head?”

How many more times was she going to do this? He should be thrilled. He was getting exactly what he wanted. She was willingly telling him everything he needed to know. So then why did this feel so wrong? Everything changed again. One of her arms was missing, bone hanging out of the shoulder. There were multiple burns on her body, some breaking past the skin once enough of her fur had been charred away. There were tears flowing down her face, yet it still remained as blank as when she first started this strange cycling, “How about how I lost my father? His immense disappointment in me?”

Well that’s a bit of a new one. It did start to explain the reason for her patchwork pelt.

Just as he expected, another change came to follow. Her body was as it was before, the patches of color now there, but now there was blood on her again. It flowed along her neck and back, right in the spots where the carved flame scars were. He had seen them along her back when his former host was taking care of her, as well as the black, branded cross at the center, “How about the zealots that tortured me for their own amusement?”

Finally the cycle came to an end, her original mind form coming back. Her body knelt down in front of him, his burning gaze fixated on her. He tried to feed off any lingering emotion, but she was still empty. Was this what human starvation felt like? He hated it.

One hand reached out to take him by the chin, “Was that enough information for you?”

He didn’t understand it, “Why?”

“You mean to break me like you tried to do with Malceum, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Doctor… you can’t break what’s already broken. All you’ll do is push me to do it.”

He didn’t like how that sounded, and he could guess what she was going to say, “Do what?”

“Kill myself. Alexander and his little country don’t need me. Malceum can find someone else. But then again, if I kill myself, what future does that leave for you? Trapped alone in a crystal where no one will hear you. You won’t be able to get the jump on him twice. He’ll lock you away where no one will find you, and no doubt chain you down far more than I ever could. Who will you be left to ‘play’ with then?”

He hated her. He hated her logic. He hated feeling so weak. And he hated the shiver he felt down his non-existent spine.

He ripped his chin out of her grip. He could see her starting to fade in front of him. At long last she was falling asleep. He couldn’t bring himself to figure out where she was going to. If she was not staying here, she was probably falling into a nightmare of her own. It seemed she only rarely got a sleep that was without one when she wasn’t on a potion. He couldn’t describe the relief when she was gone. Despite this, he couldn’t push himself up from where he was on the floor, still feeling so empty without her emotions.

However, there was one thing he felt, something that frightened him.

Something he never thought he would feel from anyone else.

Threatened.

#my writing #tw; blood #tw; body horror #novembria #the good doctor #alastair #salena #tw; suicide mention

[salenakingston]

Decided to kick things off by doing a sample prompt to try and get my work out there. I asked my fiancé to pick a prompt and I rolled with it. Thanks my beloved. Any other prompts I get will follow this same format. Might as well get that out of the way. Any warnings will be placed at the top and in the tags.

Prompt: “it could be worse.”

“You aren’t the one bleeding.”

“Look, you are still alive. Stop whining.”

Warnings: Bodies/Corpses, Blood, Cannibalism, Violence, Death

Timeline of Events: Pre-Whitegale Estate (Backstory)

Total Word Count: 2,169 words

What was once believed to be impossible became a reality when a single switch had been flipped, the world around every living being changing forever. Living in a day and age where crime and punishment was seen in just black and white rather than a spectrum came with their own set of consequences.

A blazing fire.

Rotting flesh.

Screams.

Anger boiled out from one source, unable to be contained by the loss that had been suffered. Sickly green and the sheen of silver surrounded the space. It consumed anything that it touched, much like the same orange that enraged there once before. The smell was disgusting, but there was a certain amount of pleasure that came with it. It meant that the fires were winning. Wires tore, fire blazed, and blood painted the wood, stone, and earth beneath.

And then there was the continued screaming.

So much terror, but almost like it was music. At least that was how it started.

Then its luster began to fade.

The voices and ringing grew louder.

Louder.

LOUDER.

SCREAMING.

The sound of metal clinking against tile echoed through the room. A tool had been dropped from a shaking hand, a hand belonging to a tired looking man. Even though he wasn’t that old, nearly all of his hairs had turned white. A ratted duster covered most of his exposed body, the smell of iron hanging in the air around him. Bloody and bandaged fingers gripped at the side of a metal table, bile rising in his mouth as he leaned over. This was not the first time something like this had happened, though rarely was it when he was awake. He must have been trying a new tactic.

As if any of the other ones he had already tried weren’t bad enough.

“Stop!” The man’s voice rang out in the seemingly empty air. A chuckle echoed in the back of his mind, a pain spiking along the side of his head. Hands tightened around the grip of the table, sure that if he were to let go that he would crumble to the floor. He couldn’t make it seem like he had given in, even if it meant choosing the illogical option of the two placed in front of him. Standing in the face of pain seemed a much more bold display than falling and clinging to the spot where the pain emanated.

The chuckling didn’t stop, and soon shifted more into laughter. It had such a taunting tone to it, mocking the man for his current position. A voice pushed its way to the forefront of any of his thoughts, “Aww, what’s the matter? Don’t like taking a walk down memory lane?”

“I am w-wor-rking.” The man stuttered out. His once confident voice began to deteriorate when this demon invaded. He couldn’t hide how tiring it was to keep fighting back.

His eyes flashed for a moment, green flickering to orange, “Come on Malceum. You’ve been picking at these bodies for hours. Let’s go have some fun.”

“No. I-I’m so c-clos-se. I ca-an f-feel it.”

An entire lifetime’s worth of knowledge could have been, no.. had been, crammed into the man’s head since magic and the unknown became as real as anything else. The coined title of a ‘warlock’ held very little meaning when their powers couldn’t be seen by any passing person that he came across. Most information had been very hard to come by, but he had managed. Desperation drove him to pursue this knowledge by any means necessary, consequences be damned.

He was already suffering far worse than whatever sort of law enforcement might be able to do to him.

He couldn’t stop working. Sleep was an afterthought. Food was something only to be taken when absolutely necessary, unless he was forced to by his tormentor. He was always so careful, every cut precise, each test ran to the finest process. His surgeon skills were placed perfectly to obtain anything he needed, and there never seemed to be a shortage of bodies for him to use, whether that came from work, or by his own hands.

Even through the bandages he could feel his skin coated with blood. Sometimes he disgusted himself at the level of brutality he would do to a corpse, but it all faded when he remembered who he was doing all this for.

No, he couldn’t afford to stop working for a moment.

But he didn’t like that. He didn’t like getting ‘no’ for an answer.

Eyes flickered again, that familiar feeling of bile beginning to rise in his throat. His head pressed to the table, dry heaving above the pristine tile. He wasn’t sure how long he would be able to hold onto himself before one of two outcomes were to take place. He would take over, or he would have to endure another punishment. It seemed that he was keen on the former of those two this time around.

Sickness was just a means of bending his plaything to his will.

After a valiant effort on his host’s part, the flames of his eyes finally faded, and in their place came those silted orange ones. How nice it was to be able to be the one in control again. Pushing himself back up, his arms stretched out, no longer feeling any sort of pain radiating, “Sorry my dear host, but you’ve been in here for far too long. Let’s go for a little evening stroll.”

Was it evening already? Just how much time had really passed since he had begun working? Everything just seemed to blur together for him.

They left the lab, tucked safely under his own office building. Being a private surgeon had its perks, especially when considering the country he lived in. Germany never did have a good reputation, but it with the people that lived here, or with other nations at large. The pay was alright, and good thing too when it came to getting more that was required for the project at hand. They turned around, making sure the door was locked out of habit, but mostly because he knew his host would panic otherwise.

They turned down the street, pulling the hood of his duster up. They had been sure to clear their hands before coming out here, but the same could not be said for the splatters of red staining brown along his chest. It didn’t seem to bother them anyways. They kept their head held high, not paying too much mind to the lights beaming down from lamps, or the glow that shined from the moon and stars above.

Well, now it was more a matter of finding some entertainment. That was the whole point of this anyways.

Orange eyes darted around the streets in front of him. Now then, what would be a perfect place? It’ll have to be somewhere secluded, or easy to access for such a thing. Maybe we should feast again. Doesn’t that sound like fun?

No…

A strong arm soon wrapped around their tiny torso, pulling him into a nearby alley. There wasn’t much of a point to fighting back, as this could be just the kind of entertainment that he was seeking. They were dragged further into the darkness, their eyes seeming to be the only thing that glowed against their surroundings. The tugging soon stopped, their body colliding into a brick wall. Well, wasn’t this just as cliché as it got? Right down to the number of bodies he managed to catch in the moonlight, their armed persons, and even some of them waving magic around as if it was supposed to be threatening.

Fools.

They should run.

But they won’t. You’re an easy target.

They brush themselves off, standing up properly before addressing the thugs, “What a shame you all must be to this supposed great country. Just living up to what the world thinks of us aren’t you?”

“This one’s sure got a mouth on him.” “Oh don’t worry, we’ll fix that.”

Typical, and stupid. They were the ones in danger.

Run!

They stepped forward, concern thrown out the window as they casually placed one hand on the closest thug, “Now listen here, I’m a very busy man. This has been fun, but I can guarantee this little interaction is going to be far too boring for me. Maybe I’ll be nice just this one time and let you all leave with your lives. How’s that sound?”

All of them seemed genuinely shocked, as if they had never had one of their victims act so bold before. But they knew how this was going to go. The group was going to swell their ego. They were not going to let this one man simply walk away. A pity that none of them ever learned. Oh well, guess he was going to have to take this. He would find a way to make this more thrilling.

They felt something insert itself inside them. More than one thing really. How dull. Their weapons tore along the broken man’s body, echoes of cries ringing in their head. Oh his poor, little toy. Laughter exploded from the man’s lips. There was hesitance around him, eyebrows raising, positions frozen. Their laughter didn’t seem to die down at all, and the longer it went on, the more wrong this all seemed to be.

Shines of silver began to shine from the man’s body, almost like tiny little threads were twirling around them. Without much warning, the threads, wires, took hold of their victims. The weapons fell from their body, clanging to the stone walkway of the alley. They stepped over towards one of their victims, an ear to ear grin stretching across their face, “Poor sods. I was willing to be nice, but you didn’t want to listen.”

Stop.

“You know, my host hasn’t had a good meal for a while. I would know, I am constantly watching him. Maybe it’s time we fixed that.”

Stop!

“Maybe I’ll even be much more generous and gift him some new test subjects for his little project. You all should be honored!”

STOP! They stepped close, the wires wrapping tightly around the victims’ bodies, specifically over their mouths. Couldn’t let anyone hear their screaming now could they? The last thing that thug saw was a row of sharp teeth, something no human should ever have. They sank into his flesh, ripping and tearing the skin before devouring the meat to their heart’s content.

He was disgusted.

He hated himself.

He never wanted a life like this. Why did he have to do this to him?

Wires dragged the new corpses back in the darkness, coming back to the door of a familiar office. It was unlocked, and then the man stepped back inside. His grin hadn’t faded, not even as he padded down the familiar steps to the lab, “That was actually quite fun, and look! Your stomach isn’t empty anymore. Aren’t I just so kind to you?”

Silence.

Once they came to the same surgical room, the bodies were tossed to one corner, as if they were nothing more than just trash. They stepped over to a mirror, arms lifting up to undo the duster. There were a few deep gashing along their chest, something only seemed to bother the one that had become nothing more than a voice. Their shoulders shrugged at the sight, “It could be worse.”

You’re not the one bleeding.

“Look, you’re still alive. Stop whining. As if I would let anything happen to my little pet. If you were dying, I’d be the first to know. You’re fine.”

No… he wasn’t. He hadn’t been for a long time.

But that’s why he was here in the first place, wasn’t he?

They guided their body over to the numerous medical supplies, hands coming together, “Come now, let’s get you patched up.”

The rest of the night dragged on, harsher than it needed to be with his form of healing. By the time Malceum had come back into the picture, his mind was more tired, and his body spent. He finally was able to make his way to bed, off to a sleep he knew would not be pleasant. When he woke up the next morning…? Was it morning? The sun was out, but time was broken to him. It didn’t really matter, not having anything scheduled for today.

A paper rested at his doorstep, a familiar news article about a brutal mauling in the city’s alleys staring him in the face. This was not the first time he had seen this, and was sure it would not be the last. Slipping into a cleaner duster, the man returned to the lab, iron smacking his senses. Right… his new subjects. Well… might as well use them since they were here.

Time to get to work?

A sigh, “T-Tim-me to get to w-work.”

#my writing #writing prompt #prompt answered #tw; bodies/corpses #tw; blood #tw; cannibalism #tw; violence #tw; death #novembria #malceum #The Good Doctor #alastair #please let me know if I missed any triggers #I think I got them all

[talesofnovembria]

🤗

The Angst Meme

🤗: Could you give us an angsty excerpt about your muse?

((Why of course you can. I was wracking my brain with what I should write, but I think I’ve got something really good. How about the reason you shouldn’t go poking the wolf gal’s back? This little bit would be sometime shortly after this one here. Please mind the tags!!))

Warnings: Blood, Death, Hallucinations, Self Harm, Slight medical talk

Timeline of Events: Whitegale Estate (Backstory)

How long had she been here now?

Long enough to know that it would still be a long time before she would even be allowed outside this room. Long enough to know she was still confined to a bed for a portion of her recovery. Long enough to continue feeling the stinging sensation of the burns and wounds.

The room she was stuck in was dull, the only saving grace being a window along the wall closest to her bed. Granted, there was only so much of the outside world that could be seen from this one angle, but it was better than seeing nothing but white all day. The place she’d landed was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. She’d seen large buildings before, mansions like this one… but never one that had its own medical wing. There were no magic-based healers here from what she could tell. How strange. Shouldn’t there be at least one?

That man… Alexander was strange in his own right. What was he thinking? Making a deal with her like that? She had no reason to stay… really… why go through with any of this? It’s not like there’s anyone missing me… waiting for me…

Her attention was drawn to the other side of the room at the sound of a click, followed by the squeaking of an opening door. A few people she didn’t recognize walked in, making their way over to her. Body tensed, fur standing up slightly as they closed in on her. One close to her side spoke up, “It’s alright. There’s no need to be so defensive. We’re just here to check on your injuries and rebandage them. As soon as that’s done, we’ll leave you alone.”

Of course. Her recovery… fine… play along. What else are you going to do?

“Fine…”

She’d barely noticed the gown draped over her form until it was being removed. She followed through with their instructions, glad to not be restrained. It certainly seemed to make everyone’s job easier. The bandages along her upper body were easy enough to remove, irritated red staring back at her. Those had been her own fault.

The price to pay for her freedom.

She didn’t want to even think about the state of the ‘creation’ that zealot had left along her back.

But… these strangers got to see it. They had to. She’d drowned out most of their medical babble, stuff she either couldn’t follow, or there was no reason to call for her own input. She couldn’t say she liked the idea of them poking and prodding at her wounds, but what else were they going to do without magic? Had she ended up escaping that bastard before now, it would have been the same case.

At least… save for whatever all this strange equipment was attached to her.

More words, the scratch of something being written down on paper, their eyes never leaving from her.

At one point, one of the healers stepped behind her, probably to check on the state of her back. There was no avoiding it. Might as well just get it over with so she could be alone again. Fingers began to part some of the hairs, tracing gently over the burns around each flame-shaped scar. For something that she assumed wouldn’t bother her quickly threw any cognitive thought out of the window.

Fingers moving over her back.

Searing bright light.

Pain.

PAIN!

The wolf could barely register the quickened breaths from inside her mask. Even with… whatever this machine was helping her adjust to breathing after so long, it felt like she was getting no air into her lungs. She could still hear voices around her, but it was if all of them were speaking in another language. Her vision blurred, unable to focus on anything around her. One thing did seem to stick out…

When had it gotten so bright in this room?

All she seemed to be able to feel were the painful light-touched fingers sealing the flames, one by one over again.

A touch drew her attention back up to her surroundings… but her eyes flew open at the sight. There weren’t people in white coats and… single colored outfits… but them! Shining armor… white robes… golden accents… and their cruel stares. How did they find her again? Were they going to imprison her again? Where was he?!

More hands were touching her. They were touching her. Whenever they did that, it never ended well. She wasn’t restrained this time. No way they were going to get her twice!

Her arms ripped out of their grasp, one hand tearing the mask away from her face. Pain hit her lungs, breathing growing much more rapid, though the adrenaline pumping through her veins pulled her away. Her body seemed to curl, allowing her to launch herself at the closest zealot. Jaws made contact, red smearing her muzzle. The others seemed to freeze around her, her stalking towards them in almost a feral like manner.

Never again…

They began to run, heading for a door. Cowards! Let them face their crimes!

The beast gave chase, reaching out for one of their legs. She could hear two voices ringing out, both captured in fear. Good. She wasted no time pulling the zealot closer, claws and teeth coating in more crimson blood. It dripped down her face as she ran for the remaining two, huddled down by the door. As she drew near, they managed to narrowly escape her, causing her to slam into the wall.

They just kept running. The sooner she dealt with the problem, the sooner she would be free. They had to pay!

Another attempt at their lives brought her crashing down to the floor. Her head snapped to the side, another zealot having shown up out of nowhere. She was speaking to the downed beast, but nothing was being heard. All she knew was she was trapped. Trapped!

Teeth snapped out, but her face was pressed further into the floor, jaws being held open. Survival began to kick in. Do whatever it takes to get free. Kicking and clawing didn’t seem to do anything aside from getting a knee pressed into her chest. Her eyes trailed above her, noticing the shimmer of something. It had to be a dagger! They were going to do more to her! No! Nononono!

Her body struggled pathetically under the weight of the female zealot, soon enough feeling a sting in her arm. Pain came… but so too did darkness…

How long had it been since she woke up again? Confusion washed over her mind. What happened? She remembered the doctors coming in to check on her… then so much was blank. When she went to move her arms, they were stuck in place. Eyes shot up, glancing down to the restraints back on her wrists. She could also see something leather along her mouth. It was unlike the mask she had been wearing before, though she could feel the texture of it pressed against her lips.

Ears pinned back the moment she looked up. Alexander was standing at the foot of her bed, a woman in pink hair next to her. Both of them had their arms crossed, eyes narrowed on her. It was clear they were upset with her… but what had she done?

“It seems I hadn’t taken into consideration that you might have effects of trauma along with your other injuries. You had an episode, forcing Marie to hold you down while we sedated you.”

Trauma? An episode? What kind? What had she done?

A whine managed to escape between her lips, catching the man’s attention. She had to know. What did she do?

He seemed hesitant to respond, but the woman beside him was not, “You attacked our staff. Two of them are dead.”

“Marie.”

No one said anything. Salena’s head fell, body trembling slightly. Dead… two were dead… because of her… She wasn’t listening to anything else they were saying, and it wasn’t until both of them left the room when she dared to look up again. The very thought that she had ended two innocent lives wracked her brain. Her claws flexed, mouth unable to move much between the mask and muzzle. Small tears formed in her eyes as she tilted her head. There were plastic bars along the side of her bed… of course there were… the restraints had to be attached to something after all. Her head pulled back before slamming down into it. Again. Again. Again! It was all she could do to punish herself for her actions. All of this just brought another question to the surface again… one she had already asked not too long before this moment…

What was the point of continuing?

#mun speaks #bitch in armor - salena #head of house - alexander #annoying sibling - marie #tw; blood #tw; death #tw; hallucinations #tw; self harm #tw; medical talk #((really enjoyed writing this out)) #((hope ya'll like it)) #eagefree #novembria canon #meme reply

[talesofnovembria]

Is there another character you would like to write?

QUESTIONS  FOR  THE  MUN   !

Actually yes!

In terms of this blog's base canon, Salena and Malceum have three children: Fianna, Vivian, and Vincent. These were also characters that my husband and I roleplayed in WoW as... I want to say around their teenager years, but like late teens. We haven't really brought them over to the Novembria canon, even though it wouldn't be hard to do so. I'd have to figure out how to incorporate them on the blog though, since I'm sure Sal and Mal would need to be a bit older before they've got teenage old kids, but I can't just be like "HA they're magically ten years older and have their kids now."

Maybe I'll make it a verse thing at some point to where their kids can be interacted with, but presently they're just an idea for later. I can talk more about them if people want me to, but as it stands there's just not too much to go off on with the blog's current timeline.

#mun speaks #meme reply #lizard of choice #((Thanks for the ask)) #((I would love to figure out a means for these kids)) #((But I have no brainpower to rn)) #((Perhaps sometime in the future))

[talesofnovembria]

PEOPLE I’D LIKE TO GET TO KNOW BETTER

( Alias / Name ) : Salena (funnily enough). Sally Wally was a nickname that was given to me by one of my best friends, and on another roleplay sight I am on, it has become a running gag of purposefully referring to me by a misspelling of my name, so I answer to those as well.

( Birthday ) : October 1st

( Zodiac Sign ) : Libra

( Height ) : 5′ 6′’

( Hobbies ) : I do a lot of writing in my spare time, and is my biggest hobby. Does roleplaying count? I suppose so. I do a little bit of Dungeons and Dragons when I get together with my husband and our friends. Being a culinary graduate, I like to experiment with baking and cooking, trying out new recipes. Good lord the amount of things I owe to make for my husband. I would like to get back into art, but that’s unfortunately on hold until COVID is over and I can buy a new graphics card.

( Favorite Color ) : The easy answer would be black. Lord knows it’s the most common color in my wardrobe. It’s so hard to pick a favorite since I like so many.

( Favorite Books ) : Does fanfiction count? In all seriousness though, I’ve always loved the Warriors series, even though I kind of stopped at The Power of Three. I know the general story of the whole series though. I love looking through cook books for ideas and new things to try.

( Last Song Listened To ) : Confrontation - Jekyll & Hyde

(Last Film or Show Watched ) : Lucifer. Husband and I just started watching it, a spur interest as Lucifer himself is the Good Doctor in human form according to my husband. From what I have seen, I fully agree.

( Inspiration for Muse ) : I suppose it depends on which one yes? I’ll say that Malceum and the Good Doctor are technically not mine, but rather my husband’s. He just says since I write them so well, he’s fine with me using them. Tbh though, the Good Doctor is mostly my little devil now. Salena and Xander both have origins in World of Warcraft of all places. Salena was the first roleplay character I had when I rp’ed on WoW, a worgen death knight. Xander was a paladin played by another player, and our characters were enemies. When I stopped in WoW, most of Salena’s story was transferred and built upon in the world of Novembria, same with Xander.

With Alexander and Cassandra, I don’t think Alexander had many specific inspirations. Cassandra is based on the seer from Greek legend. Being that she is in Novembria, people can now choose to believe in her visions, where as in the legend, she was cursed to have visions, but no one would believe her.

( Story Behind URL ) : Novembria is a homebrew Dungeons and Dragons world that me, my husband, and our best friends created and make up our own rules for. The basic premise is that it’s a world where anything and everything is real. We wanted something that was less rule bound and opted for something that gave us creative freedom with stories and campaigns. Though this blog is canon divergent from what we do, I thought calling it Tales of Novembria was a clever middle ground. A collection of stories, or tales, in the world, just from here alone.

Tagged By: @solitaria-fantasma​ and @dragonofegyptianchaos (Thank you both so much!!)

Tagging: Anyone who sees this!

#mun speaks #tag game #tag game reply #jasmae art #((Thank you both again for tagging me <333)) #((This was a bunch of fun))

[talesofnovembria]

Hello and welcome. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Salena here with an Ask/RP blog based around the world I am a co-creator for: Novembria. Thank you for your interest and look forward to getting the chance to meet your characters. Interested? Feel free to like and reblog. I’ll be sure to check you out.

#self promo #jasmae art #oc rp #crossover rp #horror rp #fandom rp

[talesofnovembria]

(viviskull) 🐢 for a mental health headcanon ((yeets u like a coconut))

* talk about your muse!

send 🐢 for a mental health headcanon

Sheesh, going right for the heavy stuff huh?

Ok, so I’ve put this briefly in Salena’s section under the muses tab, but she’s got PTSD. Most of her trauma actually comes from her capture by Xander just before she escaped him, and into the realm of Novembria. I’ve actually written a small bit of this: here (Please be mindful of the tags!).

The basic gist is that he tortured her, and because the undead’s natural weakness to light based magic, made him the one person she’s fears the most. As if that weren’t bad enough, he’d the one that gave her the brand and scars on her back, a constant reminder of not only who she once was, but that she wouldn’t be able to ever escape from him. It’s wired her so bad that even though her choker can change her appearance to look more normal, she keeps the scars out of fear that if Xander ever found her again, he’d just do it again if he saw they were gone.

But in terms of Salena’s own mental health, much of this is easily manageable. Light magic she’s come to be alright with so long as she knows the person wielding it, and knows they aren’t going to turn it on her, even if she does have fear still buried down.

But she does have one key trigger. Because so much of the trauma is centered around her back, she does not like anyone touching it, not unless she completely trusts that person, which right now are only her husband and Cassandra. Anyone else touching her could not only cause her to fly into panic attacks, but will often make her hallucinate, thinking she’s surrounded by Xander, or even his paladin followers... and of course at that point, she can’t stop herself from attacking friend or foe.

#mun speaks #viviskull #tw; torture #meme reply