Lerith (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mutedsuspicions) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2022-05-09 11:38 am
mutedsuspicions) wrote in revivalproject2022-05-09 11:38 am
There's a beautiful sadness that runs through him
WHO: Lerith & Open
WHERE: Lerith's Calibration Room
WHAT: Calibrations stuff
WHEN: May
WARNINGS: CW/TW: Lerith's room has the potential to contain blood, violence, magical and physical assault/abuse, and torture. The items are labeled with warnings.
Waiting Room Post
Waiting Room Mingle
Calibrations Room
A large interior room of a mansion with white walls embellished in gold and black chains winding about. The decorations are nonexistent, save for one oversized, looming painting of a human dressed in black finery that is trimmed with red and silver. He's dark haired man with an intimidating gaze that seems to follow visitors around the room. Judging by the size of the painting, he is clearly the owner of the mansion. From this portrait come spider-webbing lines of blood that pulse down to the white floor. If touched, it’s very warm, like holding your hands almost too close to a fire. The blood flows into and through the grout lines, leading to the center of the room.
At the center of this room is a long stone altar, with both dried and fresh blood coating the stonework. There are thick metal cuffs where wrists and ankles would go, also covered in blood and burned here and there from what had to be magic. The emotion of fear is thick over this table, like a fog you can't see more than a foot in. The only thing that rests on the altar is a dagger [cw: magical assault, violence, blood], gleaming in the light and is the only thing clean on the altar.
To the altar's right, a dining room table. There's a setting only for one, with ornate dinnerware, goblet, and utensils. Instead of a lush meal however, there are only cold scraps and the goblet is empty. A woman with no face stands next to the table, a metal canister [cw: assault, abuse, burning] of what smells like coffee held in her hands. She has pointed ears to indicate her race, and wears simple clothes similar to Lerith.
To the altar's right, a caged halla paws nervously at the floor. There's no room for it to move in the cage other than laying down or standing up. It's antlers are long and twining, with a length of chain tangled within it and a key dangling out of reach. Any attempts to snag the key simply make the antlers grow longer or the halla moves its head to swing it out of reach. The cage is made of a thick metal - natives of Thedas might recognize it was Everite - and one of the few not covered in blood.
Lerith is next to it, reaching through the bars to soothe it. Lerith looks mostly the same, save that the scarf is gone and the metal collar has been replaced with a black and gold snake around his neck. The snake alternates between tightening and relaxing around the elf’s neck while giving a low hiss every now and again. The elf doesn’t look concerned about the snake collared around his throat as he looks to his guest, tensing slightly.
"…I was not expecting company."
WHERE: Lerith's Calibration Room
WHAT: Calibrations stuff
WHEN: May
WARNINGS: CW/TW: Lerith's room has the potential to contain blood, violence, magical and physical assault/abuse, and torture. The items are labeled with warnings.
Waiting Room Post
Waiting Room Mingle
Calibrations Room
A large interior room of a mansion with white walls embellished in gold and black chains winding about. The decorations are nonexistent, save for one oversized, looming painting of a human dressed in black finery that is trimmed with red and silver. He's dark haired man with an intimidating gaze that seems to follow visitors around the room. Judging by the size of the painting, he is clearly the owner of the mansion. From this portrait come spider-webbing lines of blood that pulse down to the white floor. If touched, it’s very warm, like holding your hands almost too close to a fire. The blood flows into and through the grout lines, leading to the center of the room.
At the center of this room is a long stone altar, with both dried and fresh blood coating the stonework. There are thick metal cuffs where wrists and ankles would go, also covered in blood and burned here and there from what had to be magic. The emotion of fear is thick over this table, like a fog you can't see more than a foot in. The only thing that rests on the altar is a dagger [cw: magical assault, violence, blood], gleaming in the light and is the only thing clean on the altar.
To the altar's right, a dining room table. There's a setting only for one, with ornate dinnerware, goblet, and utensils. Instead of a lush meal however, there are only cold scraps and the goblet is empty. A woman with no face stands next to the table, a metal canister [cw: assault, abuse, burning] of what smells like coffee held in her hands. She has pointed ears to indicate her race, and wears simple clothes similar to Lerith.
To the altar's right, a caged halla paws nervously at the floor. There's no room for it to move in the cage other than laying down or standing up. It's antlers are long and twining, with a length of chain tangled within it and a key dangling out of reach. Any attempts to snag the key simply make the antlers grow longer or the halla moves its head to swing it out of reach. The cage is made of a thick metal - natives of Thedas might recognize it was Everite - and one of the few not covered in blood.
Lerith is next to it, reaching through the bars to soothe it. Lerith looks mostly the same, save that the scarf is gone and the metal collar has been replaced with a black and gold snake around his neck. The snake alternates between tightening and relaxing around the elf’s neck while giving a low hiss every now and again. The elf doesn’t look concerned about the snake collared around his throat as he looks to his guest, tensing slightly.
"…I was not expecting company."
no subject
But the memory of the damage was still there, running through the lines of the floor to the portrait on the wall. There was fear in his face as it seemed the portrait just... loomed over Lerith and Terra. Another careful pet of the halla before the elf moved. Took Terra's hand to lead him over to the altar.
"I saved her," he pointed to the faceless elf standing at the table. "And I was punished for it." Lerith let go of Terra's hand and indicated the clean dagger resting on the stone between them.
no subject
Her name water itself and Terra always thought of blood being something like water himself. Unfortunately she wasn't here to consult.
Surprised at the contact, the keyblade wielder moved towards the altar and looked it over. His stomach felt sick as he looked at it but he fought not to show it. His blue eyes then looked over at the elf indicated and was just as surprised at the loss of the warmth in his hand, held only just a moment ago.
Looking at the dagger, he reached for it, to see what he could find out about it.
CW/TW: Magical assault, violence, blood
"This wil...l not be easy to watch."
A door, suddenly appearing, slammed open as the man from the portrait came in. Dragged by his shirt collar behind him was Lerith, who was calling for mercy, for any sort of leniency as the man practically dumped the elf onto the raised stonework. He was as thin as a twig, with less scarring on his face than he did in the present Temba. "You've spoken out far too many times, elf," he hissed, holding him down with one hand as the other locked the cuffs around wrists and ankles. "No more will you do it." The collar came free, though rested low on his neck to keep any semblance of magic from activating if this one was a mage.
"NO! No, it was an accident! You shouldn't punish someone for an accident!" Lerith shot back, struggling despite the irons that held him. Immediately he quieted but didn't stop trying to free himself futility as the shine of the blade flashed above him.
"This is the exact thing! Slaves are to be seen and never heard!"
Lerith could only screw his eyes shut tight and grit his teeth against the pain. But there was no denying the sounds of his screams echoing off of the stonework as the point carved into his neck. Again and again and again the magister worked to open his vocal cord area before using that splattered blood. Using the forbidden technique of blood magic to seal into the muscle and keep it from moving. Fill the holes he had purposefully made to keep proper healing from happening. The screams died in a decrescendo
The elf lay there, numb with his neck, lower chin, and collarbone coated in blood. His own blood. Satisfied with his work, the dagger was cast to the floor. The collar was locked back into place over the fresh wounds. Lerith laid there, numb to everything that happened. There were no sounds that came from his mouth, and the magister ignored his plight even as the cuffs were unlocked.
"Clean the altar before you leave for the slave quarters. You've made a mess."
Next to Terra, Lerith was shaking, looking at anything but the memory as it unfolded. As it melted away back into the villa room that the man had arrived in. Even with the memory gone, he still stood quiet. "We were dispensable to him," he finally said in a whisper. "The slave market in the Tevinter Imperium is large."
no subject
It was like watching a movie and Terra moved closer to the elf as if he could protect him. The keyblade wielder didn't know what to expect but no one was going to hurt his friend.
Blue eyes widened as he saw Lerith thin as a rail being brought into a room and pleading. Terra's anger was rising but he looked back as if to reassure him that his friend here and now was still alright. Then with a sickening feeling in his stomach, he continued to watch the scene unfold.
Anger continued to course through him as he watched the man hold the elf down and show no mercy. He forced himself to grit his teeth and clench his jaw as the screams of his friend tore right through him and he had to remind himself repeatedly that this happened in the past.
What was going on wasn't right and Terra wanted to be able to put an end to the man who dared treat his friend like that. And it was only through Lerith talking to him now that kept his head on straight. He felt the other man shivering and he looked at the elf rather than at the scene playing out which made him feel as helpless as he had in the darkness for ten long years.
For his friend's sake, Terra now closed his eyes although in his mind he could still hear Lerith screaming. "Has that man who hurt you ever show up here?"
This was important.
no subject
The main person that comes to mind is the Iron Bull. Someone from his own world that understood how it all worked. He thinks of Noctis, even Tommy, that would help. Now he can add Terra to that list, just basing off of his reaction to the altar memory.
"...He can not get to me here."
no subject
But he would never blame Lerith, not ever.
"For his own sake, he'd better not show up." And there was a note of finality in Terra's tone. If the man couldn't show up, that Terra didn't know and was disinclined to believe it was impossible. But he just nodded.
"If he ever does, he'll be taken care of and you'll be safe."
no subject
"If he does show, I know who I can trust to help me." The smile he gives is reassuring, to let the other know that he's on that list.
As he speaks, the portrait looming on the wall gives a hard shake again. This time, it falls, landing face down and smashing like a ceramic plate against the tile. Revealed behind it is a wooden door, Lerith's height. Humble by comparison to the room around them. "That leads back to the awakened world. Please, stay safe out there, Ter-ra."