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Down by the Port | Wade Empty Down by the Port | Wade

Post by Ilias Thu Mar 03, 2022 11:14 pm


spirit of my silence i hear you, singing for the dead
Down by the port, amid one of the many lively nights, commotion had struck. From the wharf did it begin: a small tide of hearsay that not long after it’s rise, ebbed, swelled, and washed over the nearby locales. Townies and travelers alike responded to the receding pull of the news-induced waves by gathering at one of the many docks, for it seemed the waters had proved far too interesting to be left ignored.

“What’s happening?” asked one person, their eyes wide and curious as the rest of the onlookers, as from within the growing circle of people did a faint glow grow ever brighter. And from this faint glow did bizarre orbs of light glide in graceful spires that both awed and baffled the crowd. They were almost akin to a collection of dozens of wispies, the most knowledgeable of adventurers could compare, but their true nature was not that of one of the fantastical creatures that inhabited the land—no.

There was more to it than that.

The crowd noisily parted when, from atop a tall man’s shoulder, a child reached for one of the many spheres. It dispersed in her small hands, the gentle glow dissolving between delicate fingers like it had been nothing but smoke. The innocent action had caused a disruption among the pillar of lights. It’d been as if the touch had startled the flittering orbs causing them to one by one begin to pwoof and pwaaf away from existence. Cumulative gasps rose at the suddenness, but it wasn’t until one exclamation loudly rang out that the attention finally fell onto the source of said lightshow.

“Oh my— He’s ALIVE!?”

At the center of it all, a body with skin that was pale grey lay a sopping, wet mess on the wooden planks that made up the pier. Maybe they’d been so caught up in the spectacle that some had missed him, but as the orbs cleared did his visage become clearer for all to see. Green hair sprawled over his shoulder, his eye, and across the ground like slithering veins of jade; his vestments were a damp indigo and tied around his wrists were ribbons which had darkened into the color of wounds. He’d been floating, washed up by the torrents, and carried to the edges of Lyndon Port by the same oddities that had dispersed from his person.

Dead on arrival the more desensitized few had proclaimed: either another body surfacing from some crime or some fool magicked half to death for whichever reason. So it’d been a surprise when his visible eye slowly fluttered open, when he shifted and sat up and blinked languidly around at his surroundings. He was not a corpse in the least. Just a very groggy spirit by the name of Ilias.

A very groggy, very soggy spirit.

It took him a moment to come to, the sleepy haze gradually lifting and his gaze adjusting to the throng that surrounded him. Disorientation slapped him hard in the face, though he remained as perfectly stoic as ever. “And just where am I now…?” Ilias muttered. He could barely see between the shadows of those around him, but it was abundantly clear he was not in the forest anymore. The place reeked of fish and salt instead of the earthy scents of trees and soil he’d been accustomed to for a millennium. Not even the very ground he sat on carried with it that same pulse of magic as Ilyanor or Hoptus had.

He heaved something close to a frustrated sigh, tugging the white robe at his shoulder closer to himself as if the action would keep the prying eyes at bay. As out of place as he’d started, it felt like; much to his discomfort. So he attempted to stand and walk away from it all, maybe cut through the crowd and be on his way. But hours of inactivity had left him wobbly and weak, and he’d barely made it a few inches off the floor before the little strength he wielded gave out and grounded him once more.

Strange tingles and pains plagued his legs to the point of numbness, for it appeared that while jade-haired spirit had awoken his body had not. Yet his inexperience did not allow him to recognize this for what it was, and he simply squinted down at his legs like they were the cause of all misfortune.

The worst thing about mortal bodies, he’d come to learn, was how easily they could fall apart.
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Last edited by Ilias on Fri May 13, 2022 2:27 am; edited 8 times in total
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Down by the Port | Wade Empty Re: Down by the Port | Wade

Post by Wade Madrox Thu Mar 17, 2022 5:08 am


I'm death, I come to take the soul

Down by the Port | Wade Fhjdhsg
**Leave the body and leave it cold**




"You might be wondering, what's a grim reaper doing out here in Lyndon port? Well! Lyndon Port happens to be full of all the fun, dangerous people that are always on the verge of meeting their hour of death based on their colorful life choices... but did they all have to smell like they all came out of Moby Dick?" Wade retorted in his high-pitched sardonic tone of voice with a crinkle of his nose while staring at no one in particular. The smell of a sushi restaurant or a Red Lobster back home was clearly not the same thing, in Wade's point of view. "What kind of whale gets named Moby Dick anyway?" Wade continued to go off on a tangent while voicing his unbridged thoughts aloud in his casual low tone of voice, chocolate brown eyes glimpsing at a man next to him with a hand cupping his chin in thought while he continued to wrack his brain for the answer. The man stammered in perplexion, both caught off guard by the sudden question and also bewildered as to what in Vyldermire was a Moby Dick. "Oh right, Moby Dick is a sperm whale! Thanks, Brain. Good call," The half-demon chirped in his sardonic tone of voice once again, praising himself with a content smile that reached his eyes and not at all paying attention to the man backing away from him with a weirded look. Of course, an author would give the name Moby Dick to a sperm whale. Classic phallic symbol. Clever author.

After shutting his eyes, the half-demon blended with the darkness until he was no longer seen by anyone. The grim reaper wanted to continue watching the arrival and departure of humans at the docks from the rooftop of a nearby building. If he'd spot anyone that was close to meeting their death, he'd shoot in several different areas with his spirit sniper rifle until their timely death, where their spirit could be released. From there, it was either sent off to Fleure'vir or reabsorbed for self-healing purposes.

“Oh my— He’s ALIVE!?”

With a flash of red eyes that almost seemed to materialize from the darkness, Wade peered searchingly for the one the voice spoke of down at the port and leaned forward with interest much like a vulture waiting with eager anticipation upon hearing the appealing promise of death. As he eyed the one that dripped out of the water, sporting a wet look with clothing that clung onto an attractive-looking body, something else seemed to perplex the grim reaper enough to cock a brow at the stranger with doubled fascination. Hm. A mesmerizing smirk curved one side of his lip as his gaze lingered on the dripping person with long, silky hair of jade green. For some reason, this person actually seemed to have a fixed time of death that he could see so clearly. The half-reaper demon was never able to know when someone would die until at least a day before, for more accurate results.  With the healing magic in this world, even knowing two days in advance could change someone's lifespan from two days to several months to years. Even more interesting was the sense of spirit energy that he felt from the emission of the orbs that poofed into the air. To say that this beautiful, silky green rarity was interesting was a grave understatement, excusing the pun that this author seems to enjoy adding when posting for someone that isn't her first, signature character. Just smile, do an smh, and scroll on, my dudes. Anyways, this was why Wade's attention was fully absorbed on the one that actually had a set time of death, taking note that he was also staring much like the other interesting humans that were noticing this beautiful gem that was fished out from the sea. He somehow wished he could apologize for staring at him - and just like that, it was romantic song time.

With a whirl of the black fur jacket he wore, the half-demon descended from the rooftop in a swift, fluid motion and set foot on the pavement in the shadows of the building. Wade next emerged from the shadows, humming the melody that was playing in his mind as he walked past the throngs of staring people and began singing as soon as he was within audible range for the beautiful green-haired person to hear his dedicated song that he sang with a low, serene tone of voice as he bent down with an extended hand to help the person stand on their feet again:  

"Pardon the way that I stare
There's nothin' else to compare
The sight of you leaves me weak
There are no words left to speak
But if you feel like I feel
Please let me know if it's real
You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off of you"


A smile slithered across the half-demon's face after he finished singing the last verse to the beautiful stranger. "And if that serenade isn't enough of a warm welcome, then allow me to be the first to welcome you to Lyndon Port, beautiful." As his fingers gently took the beautiful stranger's fingertips in his attempts to lift the person's hand to lightly press his lips on the back of the palm for a kiss, all the while his brown eyes lingered on the person's green eye that wasn't covered by their jade-green hair to ensure that such a gesture was allowed. Although he'd next lower the beautiful person's hand, his hand didn't quite want to let go of their soft fingertips, leaving it up to the beautiful stranger to be the one to let go first.  

"The name's Madrox. Wade Madrox." The half-eldritch introduced himself in his aloof, low-toned voice with a James Bond fashion. Hey, if it worked for James, then maybe some of that suaveness could rub off, too. "What's your name?" He asked softly in his low tone of voice as his brown eyes lazily trailed along the Moondance-esque ribbons tied at their wrists, mildly wondering if this person was perhaps half-Gaiyan or if this was merely part of a kink gone wrong - but who would willingly throw out someone as beautiful as this out to sea? Wade returned his chocolate-eyed gaze back on the jade-haired beauty, studying the breath-taking features with intrigue in the raise of his eyebrow as this person's time of death continued to glare at him. So many questions of interest formed in his mind in that moment, but the half-demon shrugged cooly instead, a sheepish smirk drawing on his lips, "I guess I'd wanna put a name to the face I'm gonna be thinkin' about for the rest of my night."  If only Wade could call that a pick-up line that he'd use on everyone, but it wasn't intended to sound like one, if anyone who knew him could believe it or not. This grim reaper truly was going to think of the one that seemed to be different from the norm, far too delighted to see what exactly this person would do with a limited life that was so specified, so finite. It was almost a shame someone so beautiful had a set time of death like this, but death was just part of the balance of life.      

WC: 1228 words








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Down by the Port | Wade Empty Re: Down by the Port | Wade

Post by Ilias Sat Apr 30, 2022 10:46 pm


spirit of my silence i hear you, singing for the dead
In those few minutes he felt quite cold, not just from being singled out by onlookers and his inability to stand but from a particular breeze that chilled his body. He was drowsy still, out of it for the countless hours he’d spend immobile, but he could at least try to lighten the weight of the drenched clothing before it started to really chill him to the bone.

He’d taken off his gloves, stuffed them in his satchel, and was just about to undo the delicate emerald pin tying the robe on his shoulder when the crowd stirred once more. A few choice lines were thrown about, among them a loud, “Oi, who’s this asshole!?” and a quieter, but audibly nervous, “H-hey, did you guys see where he came from?” breaking through the sea of gawkers.

For a moment Ilias fretted they might be speaking of him, but such worries were thrown right back into the ocean he was fished from when a melodious tune absorbed his attention, no doubt the cause of the crowd’s newfound target, and he found himself peering up at a man who neared.

“What… are you…?” the question died on the tip his tongue.

Before him stood a stranger clad in dark clothing, with hair he could liken to obsidian under the dim lights of the night and eyes the color of earth after rain. The stranger seemed young, unblemished by time, and full of weirdly confident airs exalting his presence. He was not unattractive in the least. But it was the allure of his voice which drove the Spirit to awed silence, lips parting the slightest as he listened.

Without thinking, Ilias leaned forward with interest and tentatively reached for the offered help before finding his hand stolen away into a kiss, all the while staring into those prodding brown eyes with a slightly bewildered expression, his hand never leaving the other's. He’d even been called beautiful. "Uhm—"

Beautiful, of all things.

Really, he was at a loss for words. This stranger had turned into something out of the countless books his imagination had poured over. He witnessed a prince, a gentleman offering aid to his raggedy self. Truly, it was an occurrence which amounted to a huge first in his millenniums-old existence. Possibly a meaningless gesture, but it was such a first that his reaction was to fumble with the emerald pin at his chest (as he’d been trying to remove it before) and bow his head away timidly, only to absentmindedly unhook the darn little thing. It fell to the ground with a clack!, the sound causing him to jump slightly and hold on to the offered hand a little tighter.

A light fluster had fluttered its way into the Gaiyan at having his appearance acknowledged. Surely he couldn’t be anywhere near beautiful, Ilias thought, when he looked and felt like a wet clump of paper.

“Wade Madrox,” llias repeated after him softly, allowing the charming stranger’s alluring voice to pull him out of his embarrassed bout. He would commit the name to memory, further lacing his fingers with the ravenette’s and allowed himself to be pulled to a stand. A little too fast, maybe, for his still half-asleep body to fully register. Although the cramps had subsided, he was still weak for some reason. “It’s a pleasure to meet you-” he began, before having to catch himself on the other’s chest, lightly clutching the fabric of his coat to steady himself.

The robe gave away from Ilias’s shoulder and into the crook of his own arm a soaked heap.

Perhaps it was their close proximity which inspired a modicum of stillness in the following seconds, an odd wave of alarm coursing through his being in abnormal waves. There was something off about this man, that much he could sense. And natural instinct dictated he leave and save himself any trouble but, as he peeked up at Wade with curious intent, he couldn’t restrain himself from regarding the man’s charm with a small, but sheepish smile of his own when their eyes met.

Why would he leave someone who not only helped him but also continued to flatter him so? He supposed he’d made an impression on this stranger... or so Ilias naively thought.

“My name is Ilias,” he said in a small voice, “Belvedere Remus. And… I suppose… I would find it hard not to think of you as well.” The admittance came with a bit of pondering, a bit of worry, sewn into his brow despite his content demeanor. For a creature who’d never been afforded much emotion, honesty came naturally and innocent. So he meant it: Ilias wouldn’t soon forget this even if their meeting were brief. “Your welcome has been more than warm. It was very… flattering. Thank you.”

It was then that self-awareness came back full swing when a drop of water slid down his face and he shivered. “Ah,” he seemed to almost perk back to reality. “Forgive me, you have made me forget myself— I wouldn’t want to make you wet as well. You would be terribly cold for the rest of the night and…” Yet there was no attempt to move away from his part, no untwining hands or letting go of his coat. In fact, his attention seemed to slowly slip to the crowds, the slightly worried furrow to his brow deepening as the smile fell to something more neutral. They were still staring— uncomfortably so. And he continued, quieter still, “…and it seems we’ve been shined a spotlight.”
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Down by the Port | Wade Empty Re: Down by the Port | Wade

Post by Wade Madrox Sun May 29, 2022 6:39 am


I'm death, I come to take the soul

Down by the Port | Wade Fhjdhsg
**Leave the body and leave it cold**




Perhaps a low muttering of "I'm batman" from the so-called Prince of Darkness could have answered the confusion of the audience that unwillingly and unwittingly participated in his fake music video serenade to the beautiful greenette, were it not for the resounding melody of the song he sang that was still blasting in his mind. The chorus was the best part, and his mind practically begged him to at least hum it, but maybe he'll save that for later - you know, depending on whether this author would remember that this is 'their song,' whether the greenette knew it or not.

Anyway, the beautiful, dying human in front of him was a lot more important right now, a lot more interesting to say the least. Were they human though? The ribbons on the wrists still made him feel that the greenette had to make him part Gaiyan in some way. Hybrid maybe. He could work with that.  

For a moment, it seemed as though the sound of the other humans around him sort of drowned out. His focus was on the beautiful, presumed hybrid, taking advantage of the silence to notice the greenette's visible green orb appearing a lot more reptilian in nature than a human one. His brown eyes lingered on the enthralling reptilian eye, a curious smile that longed to see the other one behind the curtain of hair. The smile only spread a little more upon hearing the half-Gaiyan say his name with a soothing tone of voice that was capable of calming even the fourth-wall-breaking, undiagnosed disassociative identity disorder demons of his own mind. The sound of a literal pin drop was the only thing that broke him from his silent calmness however, causing him to blink down at the source of the noise and reorient himself away from his fantasies and back to reality, whatever that means.

"Ilias, huh? Hmm.." The demon repeated his name approvingly in his low-toned voice while a free hand cupped his chin pensively, his mouth twitching upwards with intrigue.  Truth be told, the name shouldn't sound as appealing for a demon to hear. It sounded a lot like a name that belonged to an angel. "Latin, right?"  He asked after tilting his head in thought, mulling through the meaning of the name. "Been a while since I've heard it," There was a reminiscent tone in his voice as he shrugged his shoulders in an aloof manner, admittedly unsure if the guy even knew the "dead" language anyway. Still, despite the presumably angelic name, this particular demon cocked an eyebrow as his smirk snaked its way across his pale countenance. If it was another angel, then who was he to tempt someone so pure-hearted? Who else but Wade Madrox, of course! You know, just in case you haven't remembered his luck the last time he was with an angel, or even read his intro in the last post.

Upon hearing that an angel couldn't resist thinking of him, the grim reaper lowered the hand from his chin and placed it upon his chest as if touched by the sentiment, much like the grim reaper always had when humans appealed to him, or when you flirt with the Grim Reaper in the Sims games, as a reference. A human thinking of a grim reaper for something other than dread for their death was always something new, something alluring; in other words, this human was unbelievably irresistible. "Pleasure's mine, believe me.." There was a lot more he was alluding by his charming words while his brown eyes trailed down on their hands still together, not being able to hide the appeased smile at how close they were. The sight of the pin compelled the Eldritch to slowly bend down on one knee without his hand leaving Ilias,' biting his lower lip for only a second or two as his eyes trailed up while he rose to his feet once more, pin in his free hand for Ilias to take. It might have even seemed as if he were visualizing something, but then his eyes flickered back on Ilias' eyes. "Ya know, the name Belvedere in broken Italian means.. “nice view,” He mused aloud, recalling the Italian he learned after spending a year in Monteselice. "And I'm thinkin' it fits you well, Ily.." Using two fingers, he deftly swept the silky green curtain of hair over his other eye more towards that side of the ear, an admiring smile curving at the end of his lips as he gazed at Ilias' green and red snake-like eyes, "Really well." Wade wasn't put off at all by the pair of heterochromia eyes, much less about the red eyes. In fact, the demon could relate to his brown eyes turning red whenever he tapped into his grim reaper magic. One similarity? Check. Now they were getting somewhere. Possible ship incoming.

“Forgive me, you have made me forget myself— I wouldn’t want to make you wet as well. You would be terribly cold for the rest of the night and…”

The Gaiyan's flustered expression of being so distracted that he even forgot himself caused the eldritch to narrow his thin eyebrows slightly with an appealing smirk. "I don't see anything wrong with getting wet, do you?" His words were coated in a salacious innuendo as his eyebrows tilted upwards with feigned innocence in that small smile that curled at the ends of his lips. He did take such a delight in causing such a tempting fluster in Gaiyans. Ilias' selflessness caught him off guard, of course, causing him to realize that Ilias was cold and he knew that was his cue in lots of romantic movies.  "Cold. Right. Uh, here.. take my coat," Wade offered and reluctantly let go of Ilias' hands with a sigh as he pulled his arms out of the sleeve without waiting for a response. In a dramatic fashion straight out of batman, Wade made the coat flow over Ilias' shoulders, adjusting the hood on top of his hair. "There we go," A bright smile reached his eyes as he tilted his head and peered at the greenette underneath the hood, "How's that for a warm welcome?" There would be no doubt in his mind that Ilias would be as warm as he described. Nope, it wasn't sarcasm at all, it truly was a magical coat. The fur-trimmed black coat was infused with demonic power to warm anyone that wore it. How else was the half-reaper supposed to feel less like he was as cold as death?

“…and it seems we’ve been shined a spotlight.”

"Ah, just let 'em look.." Wade's brown eyes flickered to the side as he shrugged, brushing off the discomfort. "Or, just give 'em somethin' to look at.." The way his eyelids lowered half way with that smirk tilting at the ends of his lips, it might've been an invitation for some pretty sexy PDA, but Wade was just warming up - or in this case, Ilias was. Surrepticiously wrapping an arm around Ilias, the demon demonstrated with the hand that was on his shoulder the middle finger gesture at the crowd of on-lookers. "Whenever people bother you, just stick your middle finger up at 'em." The demon wasn't exactly the best influence, but that was one of the human gestures he seemed to pick up while he was observing them. He didn't really know what it meant, just that it seemed to ward them off. Although sometimes, it pissed them off, so it always confused him. "So, where ya headed, Ily?" The eldritch changed the subject as he glanced around Lyndon Port. "How 'bout I show you around town while I take you wherever you wanna go?"

Word Count: 1288 words









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Down by the Port | Wade Empty Re: Down by the Port | Wade

Post by Ilias Fri Jun 03, 2022 7:40 am


spirit of my silence i hear you, singing for the dead
The man who aided him seemed increasingly satisfied, or so Ilias inferred from the unceasing smiles and the various little delighted gestures being produced as he spoke. He found them hard to ignore, his interest flickering from (from one mannerism to the other) Wade’s brown eyes to his mouth down to their intertwined hands and repeat. Ilias observed quietly, curiously; still somewhat lost in the princely image his imagination had decided to portray.

If he was honest with himself, Ilias had completely forgotten about the pin in those moments. So the realization hit him, although somewhat late, when Wade bent and collected the emerald accessory. Had he been so absorbed in his presence that he overlooked it? At this he blinked slowly, pondering over what had just come over him. That is, until he caught how the ravenette looked at him, how he bit his lip…

The look went mostly unregistered, not understanding what it could mean but feeling a bit— Well, he felt like he couldn’t look him in the eyes again. He’d been just about to avoid his gaze when fingers brushed along his skin, pinning his attention to Wade. "Ily…?” he said faintly. A nickname…? For him…? No doubt did it surprise the Gaiyan. Why, it tickled him pink to think he’d been given one! Though the onset of the compliment might’ve made the feeling manifest in a literal sense, drawing from him another smile he shied away from showing by covering it with the back of his hand.

Wade was… a lot. A terrible heat had begun to warm the waterlogged Spirit’s cheeks. In just a few moments of meeting he’d managed to really fluster Ilias for the first time. It was a new feeling… but not at all a bad one.

So perhaps it was a good thing the coat had been pulled over his shoulders—although he’d started regardless of the embarrassment, to try and stop the incoming help as he still did not want to ruin such a nice piece—before finding himself swathed in warmth and shrinking comfortably into the coat. It’d silenced any real objections, part them being a rather small explanation on why it was not good to be wet at present (he hadn’t caught the suggestiveness of Wade’s question); yet also provided the means for him to hide away the growing embarrassment. “Really, it isn't necessary…”he uttered, though the words were somewhat muffled as he pulled the sides of the hood over his nose to cover the flushing cheeks, leaving his red and green hues to shyly peek up at Wade.

“What do you mean?” he naively asked with a slight tilt to his head. Give them something to look at. It seemed to him the crowd had looked enough. Ilias couldn’t think up anything else worth looking at, and just the thought of more bystanders showing up was a bit nerve-inducing. Wade was strange, but in his limited perception the man was unarguably interesting and, even, very kind for helping him. He even knew of the language which had come innate to the real Ilias, even likened it to his own. Latin and Italian, they were called—and they shared similarities, it seemed.

"Whenever people bother you, just stick your middle finger up at 'em."

That baffled him. Truly. Such a simple gesture could work to stop them from causing him discomfort? Really, he had yet to meet anyone who would give him any real grievances, but Wade seemed to know what he was doing and he was happy to learn something new, something human. He wanted to try it himself, but the coat had proved to be delightfully warm and so he remained hidden behind the fabric he’d pulled over his face, a little mindful of the arm slung over his shoulders but brushing it off as a stranger’s friendliness. Surely, the charming ravenette only wanted to help... right?

Ilias took a step forward, trying to walk and finding that his legs were a little more stable than before, though the movement was still awkward and stiff. “Um, well…” He reached for his satchel, hoping that its contents weren’t too ruined for it, “there is somewhere I wish to go,” and produced a book that was about as soggy as himself. He held it between his hands, visibly frowned as he read over the title Divina Commedia di Dante: Inferno, and carefully slipped out a long, folded piece of paper pathetically flopping over the side of the book. A letter— one he’d been using as a bookmark.

Spreading it out on the cover, the letter’s contents were ruined beyond legibility and so were his hopes as well. If this was the letter, he couldn’t imagine the state of the book. Ilias sighed, deflated slightly at the thought. “Well, there was somewhere I was told to go,” he corrected the earlier statement in face of the damaged parchment. “A weapon’s shop. One that specializes solely in swords called the… The Twisting Alloy. Perhaps you've heard of it?”

Tearing his attention away from Wade, he took in the port’s surroundings. Boats and the likes littered the docks he’d had the unlucky (or perhaps lucky, given the man at his side) experience of being fished from. Some of the massive ships held designs engraved onto their sides—things like stamps with leafy vines or wave-like designs encasing them—all the while men and women worked tirelessly around them, even at this time of night. “Its location was never specified, really,” he continued, flashing Wade a faint, worried look. Ilias truly had no idea where it could be, much less with a rather limited knowledge of cities.

However, the proposition of being shown around was much too great, especially when Lyndon Port’s array of shop lights and rather vivacious nightlife stood so close to the pair. “But—!” Ilias interjected suddenly, as though said proposition would suddenly vanish if he weren’t quick enough, a small twinkle of excitement playing in his eyes at the prospect of exploring. “I would enjoy being shown around, as you said. Your company is more than welcome."

He looked at Wade expectantly, a small smile drawn, as he dearly pressed the book close to his chest between his arms. It might’ve been ruined, but it was still the only copy he owned.
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