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Something Wicked This Way Comes Empty Something Wicked This Way Comes

Post by Damian Sat Dec 04, 2021 6:52 pm

Something Wicked This Way Comes Damianpost

-


“What’s he doing here? Could he be visiting someone? No doubt about it. A busy man is what he is.

How gracious and nervous was he to see him again, with his insolent pose and black curtain for hair! What cruel handsomeness had he bequeathed? Emil Graves had looked upon him as a prickly, unfeeling ghoul. He had the everlasting warmth of a raging blizzard and the tongue of a venomous serpent about to strike.

The fellow he was so unnaturally fixated on moved quite like a dark cloud through the streets that seemed to so resemble the dark-tinted cobwebs of a sprawling spider. Around the impersonal eldritch hung the more lively folk quite too heavily engaged in their active tourism to notice anything outside of their wonder bubble. Such occupied persons and this ghostly figure had primarily one thing in common if he contemplated this thoroughly enough, which was to ignore practically everything and everyone outside themselves, but in expression, they were vastly different.

He was as vivacious as a corpse, kinder than a cornered wasp defending an incompetent hive, and yet his talents as a doctor could not be slighted even in passing.

His knowledge as a practitioner and endless devotion were fair reasons that he, the ever nervous Emil, hadn’t left this plane of existence.

That fact may have led him to follow the serious man around like a lost puppy, in order to make his gratitude known to him again. He dared to hope for a change of heart, a tender acknowledgment in return for his tedious trials.

That was asking for too much, apparently.

It was in the way the much sought-for healer stopped in the middle of the sidewalk that alarmed the meek gentleman of his understanding that  he was more than conscious of his callous stalker.

Sweet Emil was discovered so soon that he hadn’t the time to prepare himself for a proper greeting nor the moment to come up with a plausible reason for his ardent pursuit. He was so embarrassed, he could hardly speak clearly through the mass stuttering that spilled from his quaking lips. “D-Damian! I - I-I didn’t mean no di—-disrespect, sir.” He tried to get to the point quickly before his face could reveal a powerful ruddy red. “I o-only wanted t-t-to thank you again for saving me. You’ve added yea-years to my life! M-my only right decision was choosing you for a d-doctor.”

Damian turned around at a leisurely pace to address the poor fool with eyes of sharp ruby diamonds. He mindlessly and slowly twisted the long red ribbon that held up the half ponytail around his fingers before finally recognizing the same fragile creature from a time so long ago. He stopped playing with the fine string and allowed his hand to fall back to his side.

“Yes, it is clear to see that nearly thirty years of said life have not been entirely wasted on you, Mister Graves. You get to live another blessed day.” Said Damian, grimly. “I would expect nothing more predictable than an untimely relapse if you continue to defy my sincerest recommendation. How extraordinarily prolonged your road to recovery has been when it could have been remedied in less than three months….” then he briefly thought about it with a subtle hint of a cruel smirk lighting up the tail end of his lips, “approximately.”

“Yes, erm. True. B-But, uh, in case you haven’t noticed, I am doing considerably better t-thanks to you.”

“What also fails to escape my notice is your miraculous speech impediment. If my memory serves me well, that wasn’t there before. Did something go terribly wrong? What a pity.” His sense of humor might have been uncalled for, but he continued to state his case openly with the following: “Since that is all you have to say to me, then we should consider this conversation over. I am very pressed for time and can’t afford to waste it reminiscing about a past that once was. It does nothing for me.”

Damian was not oblivious to the wooden smile on his former patient’s rosy complexion. He would not console the young man, the boy who so infamously screwed with an established health regimen he meticulously implemented on his behalf to ensure betterment and Graves showed his gratitude by squandering it due to an exceedingly weak mind. Giving in to the same old self-destructive habits that invited such maladies, lying shamelessly to his face about such cheats.

Combine not following his advice and being dishonest about it, naturally; all that made Damian a very angry and very unpleasant gnome to converse with. He wasn’t the sort to live something like that down.

And Emil knew that. “I wish you well, sir.” Was the last thing uttered to the stoic vampire as the sudden need to depart made their goodbyes inevitable. Damian said nothing in return and continued his cool promenade. The bustling around him was loud, but in his mind, there was nothing but blissful silence. Had he been just as mindful as he was earlier, he might have detected the little trouble nearby and evaded the events to come.

Not today.




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Something Wicked This Way Comes Empty Re: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Post by Sage Mon Dec 06, 2021 12:12 pm

This wouldn’t be the first doctor or even the third doctor he’d “stolen” since he’d left home looking for help. Sage, who was peddling vigor potions outside of a courtesanium, found his ears being prickled by buzz words. Presently one, and the only one that mattered. Doctor.

“I’d like to buy the two hour one— Boy, are you liste—“

“Shhh!”

“Excuse me, did you ju—“

“I said shhh, you limp-limbed halfbreed!” Sage hissed absently, unsure if his former potential patron was actually a hybrid though it was unlikely given where they were. He also didn't give two flaming Wispies craps. Sinhaven wasn’t known for treating its low population of less-than-pure-Eldritch any better than the whores in the house behind them would treat a man short on vigs.

With his proverbial ear against the wall, the short young man eagerly took in the conversation happening around the corner, having to spellcast a potato, one roughly the size of the appendage the customer had hoped to magic for himself, into his mouth to shut him up. God, could the man not see that he was trying to hear something important? If he didn't stop fussing, soon he wouldn't have any rocks to get off!

It was a privilege to buy his special potions anyway. Regardless of how bad he needed the coin and how much he cursed his father, he was still an illustrious Gwydion. Sure, he cut corners to cut costs out of necessity, but the goals were still accomplished. Plus, the occasional side effects made for lovely return customers sooner rather than later. It was rare to find someone as skilled in alchemy as he. If most messed with recipes the ways he did, there would be more dead in the streets.

"I'll be right back," he hissed at potato-mouth man, darting to keep around the corner. Right, the lofty long-haired man. Of course he was a doctor. The "I'm better than you" oozed off of him, but at least he wasn't faking being a nice guy and handing out meat pies to the homeless in an alley. Now that had just been an all-around disappointment.

Seeing that the man was walking this way, Sage scurried like an enormous-egoed witch-rat into what would inevitably be the man's path, and after opening his grimoire and scribbling ominously on the ground, he chuckled demonically and hurriedly returned to his rickety stall of potions to wait.

The second this guy stepped into the faintly marked spot, the magic circle would blaze to live in luminous purple. His feet would become glued to the pavement and magic snakes would act as chains to anchor his legs. Always have a plan and always set traps. While surely none could best him and his godly magical prowess, having the element of surprise kept things clean and made people listen to his pitch (demands).

And if they didn't listen and got too full of themselves, well, they'd find their bellies and mouths full of slimy swamp frogs.

Calling off his potato from his patron, Sage went back to hocking his wares as if he hadn't just pissed off the guy beyond belief. However, despite his insistence to the contrary, it took basically no convincing on the male witch's part to keep the guy at the stall, let alone sell him the brew. All the black-haired boy had to do was make the vaguest of boob-gripping mand motions and the dude was all in. Clearly he was desperate for a little liquid help in the trouser rouser department before getting up to his 'hobby', so vigs were exchanged and the man gleefully ran off with his vial of seduction (and promptly swallowed it by the sounds of the horrific 'hurrrrk' noises at the top of the stairs). It looked nice and natural, not like he was waiting for the doctor to fall into his trap at all!

Sometimes it nearly hurt to be this brilliant. Perhaps this physician would actually be helpful, unlike all the other smooth braided newts he'd snagged so far. Time definitely wasn't on his side...on any of their sides...

[wc: 685 || total: 1548]
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Something Wicked This Way Comes Empty Re: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Post by Damian Thu Dec 09, 2021 3:43 am

Something Wicked This Way Comes Damianpost

-




It was the beginning of a dreary day. The dusk sky shed a faint gleam over the heads of those roaming the streets, and on the stone structures surrounding them. A little wind passed through his hair to whisper a warning, and it tugged gingerly at his dark robes to make a greater point that it was best to reconsider the path he was taking. The flute hanging at his waist, adorned by blood-red tassels, bobbed gingerly as he moved through the dispersing crowd. The clump of pedestrians about the vast vicinity lessened, and Damian was left alone to browse the same old scenery with his half-lidded eyes that held no glimmer of excitement for what he saw, no amusement or interest that would cause him to gravitate in the general direction of sublime entertainment.


Everything to him seemed subpar, repetitive and colorless.


He wasn’t an escapist that would seek out the sort of temporary and addictive pleasures that would draw him back again and again like so many others. His life revolved around scheduled visits, record-keeping and continuous study.


A monotonous routine for others, a gratifying regime for Damian. But plans, much like rules, could be made fragile until breakable by just one grossly overlooked factor or two.


He saw not the scurrying form of a young man and heard not the mystical scribbling initiated by the little demon from before that snickered with audacious glee. The clever boy had chosen the most opportune time to strike when he did because it was at this moment when the vampire’s guard was down and nothing in his environment enticed genuine concern.


Then, as he lived and breathed, a flash of emotion and a dash of delayed thought.


Damian had the look of a man stepping in a warm, foul-smelling heaping pile of wyvern dung when a brilliant blaze of purple flared a perfect circle around him. In those few seconds he found himself staggering under the mixture of lights and the shadows dancing ominously upon his snowy countenance and gloomy attire. The simple action of moving one rebellious step forward triggered the outlandish sensation that he might have been treading through drying cement until both of his feet were frozen in place.


With the impeccable likeness of a puffed-up raven perched upon the gnarled branches of a burning tree, ruffled feathers and all, he refused to make a sound.


Foolish pride wouldn’t permit him to be so lenient with his ego, to ask for help or to allow a pinch of fear to bleed through his mask of fire and brimstone; this, at least to Damian, was no different than exposing his soft belly like some pitiful street mutt. He was not a docile man.


Chills traveled from his neck to his spine as he felt something foreign climb up his legs and still them into place.


Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes? Magical or not, he indiscriminately despised them all with a passion. He’d stomp their heads flat if given the chance, but he would endure the humiliation. A minuscule bead of sweat would trickle down the side of his face as he continued to mask his hidden discomfort and extreme disdain for the situation.

What broke his running streak was the unimpressed eyebrow rising above its usual place as he caught sight of a scrawny rat child making the silliest of breast-grappling motions before an agitated-looking customer who seemed to be in need of his services.


Damian silently hoped that this teenaged charlatan wasn’t his ballsy idiot of a captor.

Why.

“May your obituary be written in weasel’s piss,” he snarled, a rare embarrassment striking him dead in the chest. He couldn’t even get another word out, for he was secretly reeling over this new-found shame.




Word Count; 630
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Something Wicked This Way Comes Empty Re: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Post by Sage Tue Dec 21, 2021 1:29 pm

Sage slowly turned his head, his smugness swelling to celestial proportions. "Ho, ho, what a wicked tongue on someone supposedly serving as a savior!" The witch with the flashy big hat snubbed from his rickety sales table and sauntered over with the countenance of a fat noble looming over (hilarious because he's rather short) his next extravagant meal, his next big exploit for riches, maybe even the servant about to shine his shoes. It wasn't a nice look, that was for sure. The rat had snagged himself a chunk of cheese, now it was time to see if it was worth eating.

"And may your stuck-up posterior trot its way where ever I please before that final moment comes to pass," Sage replied with a cockeyed smirk, brows angling sinisterly downward over his lightly glowing eyes. What a menacing menace. If this doctor thought insults and sour expressions would earn him anything but snide remarks, he was mistaken.

"Mmmm, yes, you are now my prisoner," gloated the young man, though he air quoted "prisoner". He didn't want the regal man with long inky locks to completely curdle, lest he harm the two sick Gwydions instead of help them in the spirit of revenge. Sage knew he was pushing his luck as it was, he knew no other way, but, believe it or not, no matter how much enjoyment he got from subjugating the haughty, his heart was coming from a good place... very deep down inside. "However, have no fear! There are plenty of vigs in it for you, if you can provide adequate services, healer. Normally, I would prey upon your assured love of filling your coin purse with the dirty gold of the ill, but I simply don't have time to take any chances that you'd decline," the imp explained... sorta. Behind that devilish laugh and the nasty bravado, there was anxiety and desperation churning in his eyes like a river disturbed by a drowning man.

Leaning forward, he peered up into his captive's eyes, cocky and threatening. "You will come with me, right? If you don't, you'll gag up frogs. Possibly for the rest of your life. It's truly vile," he warned, taking only a few more moments to stare ominously before turning back to his table to hastily pack things into his bag. He had what he wanted. There was no time to lose. The quicker he knew if this might finally be the doctor they needed or not, the quicker he could get back out on the streets to find another doctor, another way. Being a realist, Sage wouldn't make the mistake of getting his hopes up, but he was desperate enough to try every option just in case.

[wc: 454 || total: 2632]
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