this ain’t god’s fault, brother
i’m afraid this one’s mine
i’m afraid this one’s mine
Lieve’tel wanted to explore Denocte, and Vikander had no hope of telling her ‘no’. After all, it wasn’t like a child her age could be cooped up within his rooms for too long and not feel that youthful itch to go and explore. So, he willingly put his work aside for the first time in years and took his daughter out of the Scarab and into the streets of the Night Court, moving like a hunched, grumpy shadow following his eager, wide-eyed daughter through the lantern-lit streets.
Every time someone would get too close, Vikander would snarl his teeth and snap at them, ears pinned, the icy-blue of his eyes narrowly hidden beneath a curtain of curly black hair. He did not let Lieve leave his eyesight for even a moment, remaining right at his daughter’s petite side every step of the way. They wove through the streets of the marketplace, stopping every now and then when something fancy caught his daughter’s eye - and goodness, did they stop a lot, but Vik was wrapped helplessly around Lieve’s little hoof so he truly didn’t mind - and generally enjoyed one another’s company.
With every question that his daughter asked, Vikander would ponder before giving an answer to the best of his knowledge. A group of street performers sang and danced on the side of the street and they stopped, enjoying the show despite the fact that the warlock felt too many eyes on him. It had been far too long since he had felt such peace, such heartwarming, soul-singing joy, that he honestly wasn’t too surprised when it all came crashing down.
That was life. It built you up only to watch you fall.
It began with a rumble to the ground beneath their very hooves, a shake that did not absolve after a few lingering seconds. It grew, and the people of the marketplace began to look around in fear, some scattering, the throng of entertainers and singers parting ways. Vikander’s eyes were only upon his daughter, his small, precious daughter, and he huddled close to her as the earth vibrated beneath them and darkness filled the sky. A few trinkets and trade goods toppled from a nearby vendor stall, clattering to the ground with a shatter. Someone tripped and fell, landing hard upon their knees. A few of the lanterns hanging overhead swayed until they fell to the ground, rolling to a stop a few feet away.
“Stay close,” he whispered to his daughter, peering around through narrowed eyes, scenting sulphur and ash on the breeze. From the south towards the ocean, a great billowing cloud began to ascend into the heavens, raining ash and debris down upon them. An eruption? Had there always been a volcano to the south?
Where others displayed fear or confusion, Vikander only felt the deep, dangerous desire to keep his daughter safe. Whatever was happening around them paled in comparison to the burning drive to protect Lieve’tel from harm, and what a twist he had become; the awkward, reclusive shadow of the Scarab turning into a stalwart spectre as hell, quite literally, rained down upon their heads.
“Back to the Scarab, Lieve. We shouldn’t be breathing this in.” He wouldn’t risk it. Smoke and ash inhalation was dangerous, and so soon after Lieve’s resurrection he did not want to know the effects it could have upon a recently revived soul and body. Perhaps later he would study that, but it would not be done upon the only light he had left in this life.
***STAFF EDIT
@Vikander has rolled a 1! He has been awarded +10 signos
