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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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 Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2025 9:03 pm
Quote: Characters: Kieran and Mary Prompt: A reunion years in the making. But is there anything left to be said?
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Posted: Wed Jul 16, 2025 5:10 pm
   LOCATION: Sun Room xxx COMPANY: Mary (w/ Joby) xxx CLOTHING: Outfit xxx AMBIANCE: Blackstar
"Speaking #2a0f0b""Thinking"
It was raining that day as well.
The process of experimenting on his very essence was a long and arduous ordeal. Nonetheless, the fruit it bore was worth all the suffering it took to attain such results. Unending darkness flooded his vision, freeing him of the treacherous light that only ever served to sway him from the truth of this world. When he first stepped outside upon reaching such magnificent new heights with his abilities, the sun was already obscured by a drove of clouds. It was as though some outside force had seen to it that he was welcomed to the outside world warmly upon the completion of his enhancement.
A sharp glare came upon a singular eye as he dared the "Mother" to face him now. But she was too cowardly to accept his challenge; a smart choice. With deepened fury brought about by what felt like an eternity of torture, he swore that he would one day overtake the stars themselves. This world had only ever shown him the depths of the abyss, so he would show it the same in kind. As it continued to shower, though, he felt more than just rage in his heart. Something sorrowful lingered. But it was easier to ignore that hurt back then. Those were simpler times.
It had rained on another important day of his, but he hadn't connected such events at that time.
His mother's death had come all of a sudden. No illness to warn of it. No attack to explain it. Not that Father cared much to see it explained. Mourning her was even less of an effort on his part. There was no fanfare, no proper funeral. She was buried, yes, but through rushed and hushed means. An official statement was made...and then life was to move on. But Kieran could not move on. How could he be expected to? While he knew it to be simple fanfare, a part of him hoped the stories were true. Only a true devil could be so absurdly callous.
Kieran had resolved to ensure that his mother's legacy would not be forgotten. Her rebellion against his father's cruelty was quieted to a near-whisper; his would not be. But he knew he couldn't do it alone. He knew that he did not want to be alone. And he knew exactly who he wanted to spend the rest of his days with. That Kieran, the weak Kieran who would go on to fail her, was spurred by his rabid emotions to propose to the duchess Emery Malachi, a woman he'd been infatuated with since he first laid eyes on her. She had him quite literally entranced, as per her words. A witch's familiar. He hoped that to be true; at the time, he considered it a far better title than the son of a demon. So into those verdant green irises did he pour out his soul so that she might choose to accept it. Those eyes of an unmistakable green lingered on him, motionless for some time. So fixated on them was he that he almost missed that she had responded with a yes. That was the one of the happiest moments of his life for some time, but now he knew that it had merely been the beginning of the end.
Today, the rain continued to follow him. As did those unmistakable eyes. Eyes he had considered himself forever removed from.
At first, Kieran had been half-convinced he was experiencing a haunting. Especially with Siscian presence, it was not an idea to be discarded lightly. And in a way, his theory was true. Mary Rose Malachi was just as much of an apparition as any true poltergeist when it came to the quaking of his heart when she came into his purview. That he could stand to do so at all was a contentious detail that varied from day to day.
That he could ignore the ever turning wheels accompanying her every step proved to be even harder a task. He would not admit such things to himself for some time, as they only served to distract him from his great work. But no matter how hard he tried, some form of interest to understand what had brought her and her child to this wretched school remained. And why with her child? Even if the words of Marie Ann Gunter were to be believed, it was no secret that the hands of Lomacht were hastily taped together rather than blissfully joined. Years of blood stains could not be washed away with a handful of frivolous acts. Blood begets blood.
And yet, when it was his turn to continue the cycle...he faltered. To survive, yes. To plan to kill another day, certainly. But when he imagined his ultimate revenge, he did not envision any sort of lead times on the matter. In the interim, his heart only knew discontent. Non-actionable fury festered through the day and unleashed itself as wild thrashes of his phantom limbs at night. As such feelings intensified, the curtain draped around his stagnation pulled back to reveal the full extent of his failures. His losses. Jet-black rage screamed out from his lungs in his most private moments. But like many a caged beast, he would only ever cry out for so long.
Besides, he wasn't without his small victories as well. Though that last loose string in his vengeance against the blinding light continued to draw breath, her days were numbered. Just as well, his days would know no such fate soon enough. As powerful individuals from across the continent continue to flock to his land of false peace, so too did the pool from which his witch doctor could gain precious information from. This was the final lap in his race to immortality; he simply had to continue down the track.
And yet...he could not. It was too stifling. Those eyes were too damning. And so, on this dark and stormy night, phantom darkness would force open the doorway to one particular Sun Room and obscure it entirely. It was through that cacophony of shadow that he appeared, untouched by the rain by way of tenebrous tendrils offering him safe passage. Upon entering, the vestiges of the all-black returned to their home as he stood before her. His gaze was fixed upon her motionlessly, but his stare offered nothing but detached fatigue. Kieran was not entirely sure of what tired him most at that moment, nor did he know if this outing would do him any favors. He only knew that his restless soul knew nowhere else to take him. He stood silent for some time, still enough that he might be perceived as an apparition himself...and then hoarse, wilted words finally came out.
"Our paths cross again, Ms. Malachi. To what do I owe such a grim reunion?"
One step forward. The prince of darkness's eye found itself drawn to the whelp before him. The miracle child, born in flames. Kieran only learned of what became of the Smith estate some days prior, but knew it to be for the best. Ms. Malachi had a tendency to get rid of the trash, and without powers no less. A tenacity not to be trifled with, but so often underestimated. However, to have been raised motherless and now tasked with being a mother herself was....well, the irony did not escape him. "Does the Malachi manse lack daycare services these days? Surely you've come to this continental gathering with loftier goals than having the world stage bear witness to this child's first steps," he remarked. His brow had raised, but just barely. His tone was no different, despondent and heavy. Kieran's stare returned to Ms. Malachi expectantly. He needed a response. Something, anything to prove that she was more than a cruel trick of the eye.
...What loathsome weather rain is.
OOC:
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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon Aug 11, 2025 7:49 pm
   Proximity was something Mary thought about too much since learning her son’s magic was more curse than boon. Realizing that she had neighbors in the rooms next to her own had had her calculating the dimensions of her quarters with a borrowed tailor’s tape. The distance from her door to her neighbors’ were measured in steps paced while rocking Joby up and down the hall. She didn’t know precisely how far his magic radiated, but her estimates were enough to make her nervous about remaining so near other high profile women. If her own complacency resulted in the death of her peers at such an important summit, war could break out again.
That the war had ended at all still brought a disbelieving sense of wonder to her, one soured by the memory that Balhanan had hidden this, too, from her.
In any case, when the headmistress had denied her request for more isolated quarters, she had taken to finding rooms away from the dorms to rest in at the dead of night, often dozing off upright in an armchair or couch next to Joby’s pram. It was against the rules, but she had little choice, especially when Dr. Egorova had only just this afternoon made an appointment to see her. In two days she may finally get some answers…some actual solutions...
This evening, she settled into a sunroom she had begun frequenting to enjoy the stormy weather. The sound of rain pitter-pattering against the windows with the roll of distant thunder was soothing, and the heavier air helped Joby sleep harder. Likely it was the last rain of the year for Utopia, to hear the servants tell it. It brought a damp chill to the air that had her setting her book down to fetch another blanket from her bag to lay over Joby. As she tucked it under his chin, she paused to stroke one buttery soft cheek with her finger, chest swelling with a love she had never known before his birth. He was still warm, and hardly even stirred at her touch, inhaling a deep shuddery breath that ended in a soft sigh. A part of her, so large that it still surprised her, wanted to gather him into her arms simply to hold. Feel his little body move with the rise and fall of his chest.
But it felt cruel to risk jostling him awake just to indulge her own selfish desires. He would wake in his own time. Settling back into her armchair, she lifted her book to continue reading more of Eoe’s work, gaze occasionally straying from the words on the page to check in on the baby beside her. It was quiet but for the sound of the storm. All was peaceful.
Then the door flew open, and Mary flinched into her chair, book leaping out of her hands to drop splayed upon the floor. There was only darkness beyond the doorway, and she stared, stillness before the flight, one hand coming up to grasp at her dress over her collar as for one agonizingly long moment there was nothing. Then a specter emerged from the darkness, tall and pale and wreathed in shadows, the disheveled hair falling into its face unable to quite conceal the void where an eye should have been. At first she did not recognize him, and then she remembered catching glimpses of such a broad man attending her classes and passing her by in the halls.
Then he spoke.
And she knew his voice. She shuddered to hear it from the mouth of such a haunting visage.
"Kieran? Is it truly you?" her own voice was tremulous as she slowly rose to her feet. There were too many unfinished thoughts and unfinished feelings stirring within her, but what rose distinctly over all of it was a sure mislike of having his attention on Joby. There was something about him that she recognized. Recognized and despaired.
"Does the Malachi manse lack daycare services these days? Surely you've come to this continental gathering with loftier goals than having the world stage bear witness to this child's first steps."
His words sparked something hot and poisonous and furious.
All these years. All those letters.
Goddamn this man for proving her husband right.
The thought of all that grief and hope and fear being poured into a hollow vessel made bile crawl up her throat. Had she only ever been speaking into an empty room this whole time? It hurt. Some part of her had always known, and still it hurt. She couldn’t find the words. Wasn’t clever enough to croon them out or bold enough to scream them instead. Emery would have had the words, wouldn’t she? She took a step to the side to shield her son from his empty gaze, fingers trailing gently over the handle before falling to her side.
"What a cruel thing to say to me," she said quietly, trying to look into his face and finding the sight of it too painful to bear. He looked so different from how she remembered. Had he lost his eye the same way they had lost Emery? "I am doing my duty, as I assume you are. Do you even know his name?"
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ location ▾ Sunroom accompanying ▾ Kieran wearing ▾ dress, fursooc ▾
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Posted: Wed Aug 20, 2025 8:36 am
LOCATION: Sun Room xxx COMPANY: Mary (w/ Joby) xxx CLOTHING: Outfit xxx AMBIANCE: Rainbow in the Dark
"Speaking #2a0f0b""Thinking"
Even as the rose before him rose to greet him, Kieran could not yet discern if she were spectre or reality. If the child she wished to obstruct his vision from was fact or fiction. As she denied him her offspring's visage, Kieran would instead focus on Mary's features. There was a struggle in the way she looked at him, which was to be expected. The poor Deary had likely placed her faith that if they were to one day reunite, it would be the Kieran Price of old that she would be greeted by. The frailty in her voice as she so weakly defended her actions further proved her disapproval. But did she have any idea what the sight of her did to him?
And it was more than just her eyes. Her voice, her sun-kissed skin, her golden hair; the entirety of her person caused memories of a life long since left behind to try and force their way back to the surface. Flashes of moments past assaulted him in their desperate attempts to regain a foothold on him. Letters passed through a doorway. Promises to a frail, hurting fae that would now never be kept. Perhaps she would remain a phantom to him forever more from that alone. Or perhaps this was an unintended side effect of their mutual acquaintance's passing. One final spell that would haunt him forever. But maybe it wasn't just him that the spell had affected.
Looking down, he saw a book on the ground by where she'd been seated. Eoe. Have such hauntings been a mutual exchange, then? From its shadow, tendrils arose to lift the book up and bring it to him. "Duty, huh?" asked Kieran absentmindedly as he took the book in hand. As the shadows rescinded, he took time to observe it and feel its weight. A dry chuckle rumbled in his chest. Lifting it was effortless for him, but was it as simple a task for her? Or was this her only way of connecting to a brother long since deceased? Was this a cherished memory she'd return to or had it truly taken her this long to get around to reading Eoe's work on her own? While the idea of searching his memory to try and confirm the latter was tempting, he knew not to indulge such a thought. Surely it would ensnare him entirely.
"Something like that, yes."
The prince of darkness took a step closer to her. If he were ever to excise this poltergeist feeling, he could not stray from it. Kieran would extinguish its power head on. "As for the boy, tell me, Ms. Malachi: what would you like to hear so that you stop acting as though I wish him harm? His name? His birthday? His favorite food?" With a gaze so piercing it might drill a hole right through her skull, there was only barely restrained frustration in his voice. Her arriving here had clearly cursed them both, so why go through with it? Why subject her child to such strife and then act as though her first instinct is to protect him?
It wasn't entirely her fault, though. Such hypocrisies were the building blocks to the society she likely still filtered her experiences through. And with a life like the one she had led, it made sense for her to need structure to cling to. What a pity it was that her chosen ideology failed her so miserably. His features relaxing, he offered her the book. "Do I frighten you, Deary?" As she was once a trusted audience member, Kieran was quite curious as to her thoughts on his new form. Ms. Malachi had faced many a demon in her life; if he had sparked even a sliver of that same primal fear within her, then he had truly achieved his goal of becoming an infernal creature. And if she could rise above that fear once again, perhaps she too could rid herself of the dark magic that had her in a strangle hold. Oh, what charities he granted her.
OOC:
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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Oct 10, 2025 10:57 pm
Mary watched her former brother-in-law in the same way one might eye a growling dog: warily, with careful consideration. There was an air about him now that had not been there the last time she had seen him, what felt like so many years ago in this moment. A heaviness, much akin to the humidity before a storm. She had known on a visceral level, from the very first moment she was told of her sister’s death, that Emery’s loss had changed things…but she could never have imagined the sweet man she had once known to speak with such…disdain. There was something underpinning it all, something that kept her heart racing as his magic brought her book into his grasp.
Had he always been able to wield it in such a manner?
She did not move as he drew closer, determined to remain between him and Joby. Too much had happened for her to distrust her instincts now, and perhaps it was an insult to the friendship she…once?...harbored with the prince, but she would rather be rude than risk her son.
"As for the boy, tell me, Ms. Malachi: what would you like to hear so that you stop acting as though I wish him harm? His name? His birthday? His favorite food?"
The single eye he bore was staring with a greater intensity than any gaze she could recall upon him prior. He had only ever been soft, but now it seemed no longer. She tipped her chin upward even as something screamed to take Joby and run.
"His name would be a good start," she told him. The way he spoke to her didn’t sit well. He loomed over her, everything in his manner indicating he was quite aware of how he was portraying himself, yet he played coy with his words, speaking as though she were the one acting oddly. Some part of her, small and defeated, still managed to hope she was reading too deeply into it. The rest of her that remembered how her husband had crooned over her restrained form throughout the last of her pregnancy was only grim.
Something in his face softened as he offered her the book, and for a moment, in spite of everything, she thought she was gazing upon her brother-in-law again, fondness and commonality filling the space between them. Then he opened his mouth:
"Do I frighten you, Deary?"
Mary stared at him, the endearment hollowing her out in one neat scoop. Hearing it out of the mouth of this visage, so far and different from what had once been familiar…what had happened to him? What had happened to the both of them?
"Don’t call me that," she said, old grief rising up in a new wave that threatened to beat against her shore. "Don’t–patronize me, Kieran. I don’t see you in–in–in years, and this is how you greet me? What kind of question is that? As though you–you didn’t come in here just to frighten me?"
She snatched up the book, and some wild part of her wanted to beat him over the head with it, but instead she only let her fingers clench hard around the leather cover.
"You know you do. Is that all you’ve come here to do, then? Act a boggart to frighten me?"
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ location ▾ Sunroom accompanying ▾ Kieran wearing ▾ dress, fursooc ▾
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2025 2:51 pm
LOCATION: Sun Room xxx COMPANY: Mary (w/ Joby) xxx CLOTHING: Outfit xxx AMBIANCE: Build God, Then We’ll Talk
"Speaking #2a0f0b""Thinking"
And just like that, Kieran could see the flash of hope in Ms. Malachi’s eyes start to slip away. Ever since she first recognized him, it was like there was some lingering thread she could see in him that some small part of her hoped she might be able to tug on. It was getting to be such an eyesore, and when you only have the one strain like that is a truly serious concern. "Don’t call me that," If only his ears could experience such bliss. Instead, the poltergeist before him would wail on about how he was “patronizing” her. What, would she rather him speak to her as if they were of the same status? Oh what pretty lies he fed to her in those halcyon days. And how sad it must be for her that those days are long past.
Oh well.
"What kind of question is that? As though you–you didn’t come in here just to frighten me?"
”Is that a yes, then?” asked Kieran, cocking his head to the side as he smiled devilishly at her. His amusement furthered when she ripped the book from his hand as if she meant to do something with it. Then again, with the way it trembled in her grip, perhaps she had. Anticipation built up within the prince of darkness. Was she going to strike him with it? Face her fears head-on? Kieran smiled amusedly at the thought. Unfortunately, the banshee before him had no such tenacity. What a pity. Bringing his attention back to that sun-kissed face of hers, Kieran placed a hand to his chest as if affronted by her accusations.
”Act a boggart, Ms. Malachi?”
While he spoke, Ms. Malachi would experience the light leave her eyes. Literally. As her vision was sent to the all-black, Kieran would take a seat behind her, with the spectre still between himself and her little ghost kid. ”Whose to say I haven’t become one already?” asked the prince, his voice sinking into dull, bitter notes as he allowed her vision to return. His smile now faded, he rested his arms atop the sides of the bench as he peered up at the rain bellowing down from above. If only it were enough to drown them both completely.
No, that wasn’t what he wanted. He was undeserving of death at this point, quite frankly. Undeserving of the chance to see her again. That the thought enticed him again must’ve been the work of the magicks that tormented them both. Nothing more. Still, that he wasn’t the only one suffering in this reunion brought him some perverted sense of comfort. And now that she could see him for what he is now as opposed to what he was, there was one more shred of his past self that could finally be laid to rest. If only the prince could toss him into a hole in the ground entirely. But that day would come soon, he reminded himself.
In the meantime, he figured he might as well get comfortable during his stay in purgatory. Crossing one leg over, Kieran nudged for Ms. Malachi to sit back down, a flash of mischief in his frigid eye. ”But since you’re clearly not ready to act on that malice and exorcise me quite yet, you might as well sit down. Enjoy the rain with me! We’ll gossip, reminisce. Maybe get into why you’re here instead of dancing around the subject. It’ll be fun!” For all of his supposed subterfuge, she’d been keeping her cards close to her chest as well. And yet somehow he was the only bad guy here. What a joke. Honestly, she should be lucky that he even allows her to draw breath after suffering such insolence from one of lesser status.
Tapping a hand on the space beside him, he impatiently awaited her arrival. Or the full brunt of her ire. Either would be good, really. But that half-assed spite she was pulling with him so far? That wouldn’t do. She could do so much better, if only she allowed herself to. And being the casting director that he was, Kieran couldn’t help but try and get her to reach her full potential. If he could rouse such delightfully anguished dialogue out of a mouse of all things, Kieran could do even better with a fully-functioning human being. The hold his visage had on her already faded considerably; surely it wouldn't take long now to rid her of it entirely.
Moreover, he'd certainly have to get her off of reading Eoe as well. That overdramatic hack was old news.
OOC:
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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Dec 27, 2025 11:30 pm
Mary was unprepared for her vision to go out, and for one wild split second she thought she must have blacked out from all the emotions her former brother-in-law was evoking within her. However, she was still standing, and his voice was moving, trailing around and then behind her. Whirling around to face it, hands fumbling for Joby’s pram, she was equally startled when her vision abruptly returned to her. Kieran had posed himself on a nearby bench, looking far more morose than he had since barging into the room. He looked how she imagined so many Byronic brooding heroes to, and it only served to irritate her further. Had he used magic upon her? And for what? For the dramatic spectacle of it all?
Perhaps he truly had become a boggart, come to her dwelling to cover her eyes with shadowy hands, haunting her family wherever they may flee to…but he had arrived already named, so there was never a chance of escape. He had once named she and her sister fae, but now he spoke with all the joviality of one inviting her for tea, cloying for her name, enticing her to give the meal a taste. Emery would have been clever enough to avoid such traps, but Emery wasn’t here. Mary drew a sharp breath, so desperately tempted to simply walk away.
And yet. For a man who must have disposed of every letter she’d sent him since burying Emery’s empty casket, he certainly knew what to say to grip her. Ensuring she remained between him and Joby, she slipped her book back into her bag, and took up her chair once more, expression glacial when she faced him.
"If you use your magic on me again, I will leave," she informed him frostily. "What sort of gossip do you have for me, then, after all this time? Anything you couldn’t have…say…written to me in the meanwhile?"
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ location ▾ Sunroom accompanying ▾ Kieran wearing ▾ dress, fursooc ▾
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Posted: Sat Jan 10, 2026 6:05 pm
LOCATION: Sun Room xxx COMPANY: Mary (w/ Joby) xxx CLOTHING: Outfit xxx AMBIANCE: Life Is Simple in the Moonlight
"Speaking #2a0f0b""Thinking"
Ever since surviving the hellish experiments he subjected himself to for the sake of power that could bury the light entirely, Kieran relished in the fact that he could now subjugate those around him without lifting a finger. While at first it took several seconds for his modified ability to take hold, the prince of darkness was now able to flood the vision of others with the black of the abyss in the blink of an eye. Flickering was a bit tricky, but had offered him enough thrill when stalking his prey that it became worth the time investment in mastering. Overall, he was quite pleased with it all. The fear that crept up in otherwise brave souls with the sudden loss of a vital sense always brought a smile to his face. It proved that despite the false bravado that most people wrapped themselves with like a cozy blanket, there was one fear that was near-universal: a loss of control.
Of course, Kieran already knew what Ms. Malachi was afraid of. What had followed her all her life. Betrayal. A traitor in her own home who left even her dreams unsafe. A so-called devout clergyman whose true devotion was to depravity. A theater snob. One way or another, they had each given her a sense of security just to pull it out from under her feet. Given the defiance her voice now carried, he was certain that she felt this to be a betrayal as well. And honestly?
It felt pretty damn good.
"What sort of gossip do you have for me, then, after all this time? Anything you couldn’t have…say…written to me in the meanwhile?"
"But of course, dear sister," began Kieran with wicked amusement as he brought his left index finger to his chest, drawing out an “x”. "Cross my heart and hope to die." Unfortunately, her threat felt rather empty. After all, despite all the absolution in her voice, it was now her actions that betrayed her. Ms. Malachi could’ve left right now if she wanted to and spared herself the trouble. Instead, she sat. She wanted to know why he never wrote back. She was hooked. And just like that, whether she knew it or not, she showed Kieran that he was still very much in control of the conversation.
"Was my parting gift to you not communicative enough? My, my, Ms. Malachi, you ask for too much. Not that I’m surprised, though."
His eye stared deeply into the green of Ms. Malachi’s perfect pair. His glare held ire, spite and disappointment. Was this truly the same woman that had defeated so many of her demons? Perhaps she had just become too worn down after so many battles to have any real fight left in her. One way or another, this was a pitiful performance so far. But he wasn’t out of tricks just yet. "Asking for too much from others has been your problem for quite some time." Bringing his right hand up, he used his first two forefingers to tap at his eyepatch. "Both of ours." There was a hollow sound that rang within his ears. But the hollowness he felt was beyond the mere empty space that lay behind the thick, matte fabric. A sensation that felt both brand new and innately familiar.
Kieran would search Ms. Malachi’s features intensely. Had she been the cause of this freshly dug hole or had it been there all along? If the latter, did she feel the same way? And did any of it matter? No, decided the prince ultimately. But the woman before him undoubtedly felt differently. He didn’t need to read a bunch of schmaltzy letters to know that much; that they made their way to him in the first place was proof enough. Unfortunately, such sentiments would do her no good in this life; that he wished to rob her of them was more mercy than he granted most. She'd better learn to be grateful for that one day.
"As for the matter of gossip, did you know I’m to be married again? Haven’t bothered to meet the woman yet, but I’ll be sure to make the ceremony a night to remember! You’re invited, of course,” said the prince with faux whimsy. He then pointed to her progeny with a pointed frown. The little one, not so much. Make sure to get a sitter." Switching to a chuckle without skipping a beat, his eye went up to the rain again. This time, however, his smile remained. Letting up with a sigh, he looked at MS. Malachi once more. "Your turn, Deary~" he cooed, his voice dripping with anticipation.
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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Jan 11, 2026 9:58 pm
Kieran continued with his theatrics, everything he did and said ringing hollow when his only remaining eye stayed trained upon her with such steady, chilling clarity. Worse was when the hollowness was filled with such bitter resentment that she could have been held pinned to her seat by the weight of his hatred alone. His words, however, were an arrow aimed carefully for the heart of her, piercing between her ribs in one clean shot, and leaving her struggling to scoop the gore back into herself as it spilled onto the floor between them.
"Asking for too much from others has been your problem for quite some time. Both of ours."
Her vision swam as he tapped at his eyepatch. It blurred at the edges, a high pitched tone droning in her ears and nearly drowning him out.
"Is it?" she asked faintly.
Mary didn’t understand.
Had he…read her letters after all? Was he…scolding her for reaching out to him? All this time, all those letters…and they had only ever been a burden to him. The thought weighed heavy around her neck, tightening with every doubt and fear that still clung to her in a macabre necklace. She thought back on their history together, the friendship and kinship she had believed laid between them. It couldn’t have all been lies and falsehoods, but perhaps her sister had taken all his goodness with her when she passed. Emery, sweet Emery.
Would she have wept to see him like this, or found him even more fascinating?
Then, because the twisted thing that had taken her brother-in-law’s shape could not resist twisting the knife further:
"As for the matter of gossip, did you know I’m to be married again?"
A stranger sat with her. One that took glee in moving on without her, far beyond her reach, and she had to stop reaching. Had to stop asking for too much. It only invited the sort of grotesqueries he so eagerly offered her, hatred seething beneath his whimsical smile and radiating from the tension in his shoulders. What had become of the boy who had so relentlessly drawn her out of her room? The man who had promised an open door for his new sister so that their family may never fully be separated?
It was apparent that he had died with her sister, and his body simply hadn’t gotten the message yet.
"Your turn, Deary~"
And Mary…she could only laugh. It was born on a trembling breath, and was one inhalation away from the desire to weep that pressed so hard against her eyes. If she did not laugh, she would sob, and she could not bear to be so vulnerable in front of the creature before her. Thus, the laugh slipped out of her, and she rose to her feet, hooking her bag over her elbow.
"What wonderful manners you’ve retained, prompting me as though you don’t know," she told him, her smile twisting unnaturally on her lips. "Balhanan told me you didn’t care, and I tried so hard not to believe him. I wonder how much he let slip through on purpose…? He must have found it so…he must have been so vindicated."
For a moment, she felt far away. Her husband’s face was still imprinted so deeply within her that it wasn’t difficult to conjure him up in her mind’s eye. He had always assured her in that heartbreakingly gentle way of his that no one would be coming, so she had to calm down, and think of the baby. As though she had been able to do anything else. As though everything she had been doing hadn’t been exactly due to her thinking about the child in her belly.
Then she was back in the sunroom, holding company with a different monster. She shook her head.
"I suppose I ought to apologize, then, for asking so much of you. Rest assured it won’t happen again." Grasping the handle of Joby’s pram with both trembling hands, she carefully maneuvered it out of its little parked space, and pushed it to the door. She reached out to open it, and paused in the doorway, looking back at the man who was once her brother-in-law. "Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials. I am afraid, however, that attending in any manner would be asking too much of me now. Good night, your highness."
Unable to stand the sight any longer, she dipped into a perfunctory curtsy, and left the room.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ location ▾ Sunroom accompanying ▾ Kieran wearing ▾ dress, fursooc ▾
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Posted: Wed Jan 14, 2026 6:38 am
LOCATION: Sun Room xxx COMPANY: Mary (w/ Joby) xxx CLOTHING: Outfit xxx AMBIANCE: The Unknowing
"Speaking #2a0f0b""Thinking"
Finally, Kieran had been able to get a proper performance out of his brand new star. It had taken quite a bit of stage direction to get there. And admittedly, he didn’t quite know what to do with the poor woman at first. But now, in his mind’s eye, there was quite the captivating scene forming. A grisly reunion between a pair once bound and now separated by blood. One of them was a man warped by tragedy into the fiend he once thought he could run away from becoming. The other was a naive young woman who, despite the dismay that this familiar stranger gave her, nonetheless wished to understand the demon that took the place of her favorite shoulder to cry on. With the setting weeping in their place, the stage was set.
And…action!
Ms. Malachi had taken to his proddings via announcing his intent to wed once more with a fairly good amount of despair. So shocked was the pitiful duchess that she looked as though she were dissociating further and further at Kieran’s every word. And it. Was. Breathtaking. Alas, the prince of darkness could not stop to drink in the delectable despair event horizon she was experiencing. No, he had to press on and play his part to a tee. What sort of scene partner would he be otherwise?
Unfortunately, he couldn’t help himself when Ms. Malachi burst into laughter when it was her turn to spill tea. Kieran’s brows raised up high, his mouth gleefully agape as he took in the sheer amount of madness that seemed to be coursing through her. Had he caused her to reach a breaking point? That would be even better than the bleak despair he’d been working towards! Truly, the woman before him was born for this role. "What wonderful manners you’ve retained, prompting me as though you don’t know." One brow raised higher. ”Why don’t we just pretend like I really don’t?” asked Kieran, genuinely confused as to what the ******** the delusion fae was talking about.
Ms. Malachi would go on to speak of some form of relationship drama, which did garner continued attention from him. Just what had gone on between her and her husband before their married life literally went up in flames? Might she have been the one to have started it? No, her preference was always to retaliate. If she were brave enough to start s**t then, surely I’d be in far more trouble by now. Still, the idea was amusing enough. At least she would have agency in losing her betrothed.
Kieran watched carefully as the lady in white looked completely checked out, lost in her own little world. Where was she, he wondered? Back with him? Or perhaps back in the fae wilds? Would she have remembered her true home still? Had she and Emery been keeping it from him? His former self had thought that the trust between him and his partner had been absolute, but maybe she had kept one last secret from him just in case. Considering who he was now, he couldn’t exactly blame her. If anything, this only served as further proof that he could never have escaped his true nature. This was the form he was always meant to take, history be damned. And now that Ms. Malachi knew so for sure, if she had any brains left in there she’d get her and her child out of this gods forsaken school post haste.
"I suppose I ought to apologize, then, for asking so much of you. Rest assured it won’t happen again."
”Looking forward to it, Deary,” responded the prince with an unimpressed smile as she got up as if she were going to do something. And then she did. She took the baby, gathered her belongings and prepared to just…leave. What the ********> Annoyed with this sudden turn of events, Kieran cocked his head to the side. With his brows now deeply furrowed, his amusement burned away to reveal uninhibited scorn. ”When it’s your prince asking, no Price is too steep. Try to remember that next time.” Still, he allowed her to leave. While the thought to capture her with his phantom limbs and torture her further did have its merits, the entire point of the scene was that Ms. Malachi kept herself bound to his presence. Without that, the scene was ruined.
So instead, Kieran just sat for a moment and listened to the rain as his rage simmered to a boil. What right did she have to just go and leave like that? DId she think herself better than him? More well-managed? More like Emery? And did she think that held any weight? If she really wanted to resemble her sister, she’d be better off reducing herself to nothing but a shadow. Even without her visage in sight, she still haunts me… With that revelation, Kieran bent forward as his hands came to claw and clench at his head. How dare she come at such a pivotal time. Fill his head with such damning thoughts. Make him yearn for…for…
She had bested him by denying him her tragedy. And as the victor, Ms. Malachi cursed him anew. It was selfish of her, saving herself the trouble like she had. Now Kieran had to shoulder the burden of such trouble alone once again. Even worse, her magicks had twisted him to think of it as a burden. Turned the spurner into the spurned And yet she acted none the wiser. The absolute fool.
”That life…it died so very, very long ago…” murmured the prince under uneven breaths. Flashes of Ms. Malachi, of her, continued to prey on him like vengeful spirits. And the more they preyed on his mind, the worse the pain in his chest grew. Could they not see his vision? Did they think he did not understand himself to already be damned!? ”So why can’t it just…” The darkness swelled around him, swirling into a large mass of pitch-black that swelled on the ground before him.
”Burn…in the seven hells…where IT BELONGS ALREADY!”
Phantom tendrils shout out, swinging chaotically and thrashing around him. Glass sections were smashed into while the foundation cracked and bowed. More would follow, whipping about to keep any large fragments of the now-broken ceiling from harming him. All the while, Kieran doubled over onto the ground, one hand keeping him steady while the other continued to desperately grasp at his head. As the glass settled and his breathing got a tad more settled, the jet-black darkness would rescind.
Feeling the rain upon him, Kieran would look up at the sky. His lips shaped in a snarl, the prince of darkness cursed the world anew with a gaze that wished to send hate as far as he could see. He alone was the master of his destiny, but it seemed that nature wished to challenge his claim with an appeal to nurture. But it mattered not. None who carried Malachi blood would. Lifting himself off the ground, he would make his way out of the sun room. Having wasted enough time tonight, the prince of darkness intended to haggle his hag for any updates on their project. After that, he would down as much whiskey as needed to get his mind to shut up. Enjoy a night by the fireplace as he burned those letters to ash, their presence likely a tether connecting him to Ms. Malachi’s wicked hex. Yes, he had to keep moving forward.
All the while, a pair of rings attached to a chain on Kieran’s neck like an unheeded albatross remained. If he had paid them any mind, he might’ve noticed the slightest wisp of shadow faintly pulse out from one of them in particular. Alas, none were the wiser.
OOC:
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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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