Beta towers had a roof that was mostly flat, with raised edges which came up about halfway between one's ankles and knees. At least on Az they did, but his feet weren't planted on the roof so much as hanging over the side. He leaned over a book, his spine curved, gaze sweeping over the page. There was a portable lamp attached to the back hard cover, and though it cast illumination enough to read, the dragon's pupils were still wide. Not their normal slits, they attempted to soak in as much light as possible. On his trip to his private reading location, he had briefly considered the merits of starting a rooftop garden. He had read about different communities who did that sort of thing, worked together to cut away some of the artificial hardness of the urban life. He vaguely reflected that it might be nice, seeing some green in the landscape of cement, and steel, and reflective glass. Even elegant architecture could only ever mimic what nature created all on its own.
Thoughts on that topic plagued him while he attempted to pour over the words. He was reading "Good Omens" again, the first time since Pratchett's death. It was impossible to focus on Aziraphale and Crowley's banter with the nagging in his skull though, so he found himself sliding the covers closed, and flipping the switch that cast light over an image of a recumbent angel who was ironically also reading. Community. He thought as he twisted around, sliding up to stand before he shambled his way towards the stairs leading down. There was an elevator inside, which he took to the appropriate floor. I've been feeling more alive lately. Cordelia. Enzo. Diego. A.R.E.S. Those are all new additions to my life, but I feel like I'm missing something. Am I? His intellect coiled cluelessly around the topic for a while. In that time, he placed his book back on its shelf and strapped his ritual dagger and its sheath into place. He wore them against his skin, tucked against his lower back so that when he wore layers, the weapon was hidden, but easily retrievable. He didn't even think about it anymore. Whenever he contemplated going out, he just reached for the obsidian blade.
His mind, soaked with ideas of family, and community, and bloodline settled on a plan of action. He posted a brief notice on the Dragomir CrowNet and decided to walk the distance from his apartment to the Wickbridge station. No more than twenty minuts later, he arrived at the Gullsborough drop off, so he could cross the street towards the Temple. He had been there only just recently with Cordelia, when he had made her the deal of a lifetime. Immortality and power in exchange for giving up the waking world. He had taken her humanity and had given her his blood instead, a bond and connection he had never really been very good at explaining. But it was always strong. For years he had struggled to do that, verbalize what the Dragomir meant to him, how important each of his childer were. Nikolae might have made a joke about how Az was a 'mommy' dragon. Azraeth always felt like Superbia had been better at all that. When Pratt had threatened her childer, she had thrown herself in front of the blade. 'If you need blood, then take mine.'
But Superbia and Az were the same person, or maybe there was more to the idea of a single body housing multiple spirits than met the eye. There were times when he missed being her, because she had a different kind of confidence than he did. Azraeth was an academic. He knew he was smart. Knew there were few who could hold a candle to his understanding of the arcane. But Superbia? She had been able to look at anyone and see value in them, and say without flinching that she accepted them, would protect them, would love them. And that was something Az felt he lacked. He had burned bridges in the past hadn't he? Well. It was time to test and see just how much of that particular type of confidence he could manifest. Because he hadn't just invited his childer, or his siblings, or his sire. He had invited all of the Dragomir.
An opportunity for them to catch up. Some he hadn't talked to in years. Some he hadn't talked to at all. Some of them probably didn't even consider themselves Dragomir. But it wasn't about that. It wasn't about everyone falling under one banner, or wearing some club t-shirt, or getting the company mug. It was about saying 'We belong to the same bloodline, and for better or worse, we are family.' Maybe nobody would turn up, and if that was the case, then at least he tried.
When he got into the Temple, he immediately made his way to the altar, sliding past pews and over the stonework so that he could lay his fingers on that smooth surface. Five minutes later, and he had called forth one of the demifae, caged it in a circle of power. By the time he was done commanding it, the semideus was enacting Azraeth's will, creating a field of peace inside the Temple. Eirene's Will. In case anyone decided they wanted to get clever. What was that about dragons and tempers? The Temple itself was filled with spirits, though that was not unusual. Some were there naturally, others Az had drawn.
He ended up seated on the altar, legs dangling as they had over the edge of the roof, arms loosely folded in his lap.
Thoughts on that topic plagued him while he attempted to pour over the words. He was reading "Good Omens" again, the first time since Pratchett's death. It was impossible to focus on Aziraphale and Crowley's banter with the nagging in his skull though, so he found himself sliding the covers closed, and flipping the switch that cast light over an image of a recumbent angel who was ironically also reading. Community. He thought as he twisted around, sliding up to stand before he shambled his way towards the stairs leading down. There was an elevator inside, which he took to the appropriate floor. I've been feeling more alive lately. Cordelia. Enzo. Diego. A.R.E.S. Those are all new additions to my life, but I feel like I'm missing something. Am I? His intellect coiled cluelessly around the topic for a while. In that time, he placed his book back on its shelf and strapped his ritual dagger and its sheath into place. He wore them against his skin, tucked against his lower back so that when he wore layers, the weapon was hidden, but easily retrievable. He didn't even think about it anymore. Whenever he contemplated going out, he just reached for the obsidian blade.
His mind, soaked with ideas of family, and community, and bloodline settled on a plan of action. He posted a brief notice on the Dragomir CrowNet and decided to walk the distance from his apartment to the Wickbridge station. No more than twenty minuts later, he arrived at the Gullsborough drop off, so he could cross the street towards the Temple. He had been there only just recently with Cordelia, when he had made her the deal of a lifetime. Immortality and power in exchange for giving up the waking world. He had taken her humanity and had given her his blood instead, a bond and connection he had never really been very good at explaining. But it was always strong. For years he had struggled to do that, verbalize what the Dragomir meant to him, how important each of his childer were. Nikolae might have made a joke about how Az was a 'mommy' dragon. Azraeth always felt like Superbia had been better at all that. When Pratt had threatened her childer, she had thrown herself in front of the blade. 'If you need blood, then take mine.'
But Superbia and Az were the same person, or maybe there was more to the idea of a single body housing multiple spirits than met the eye. There were times when he missed being her, because she had a different kind of confidence than he did. Azraeth was an academic. He knew he was smart. Knew there were few who could hold a candle to his understanding of the arcane. But Superbia? She had been able to look at anyone and see value in them, and say without flinching that she accepted them, would protect them, would love them. And that was something Az felt he lacked. He had burned bridges in the past hadn't he? Well. It was time to test and see just how much of that particular type of confidence he could manifest. Because he hadn't just invited his childer, or his siblings, or his sire. He had invited all of the Dragomir.
An opportunity for them to catch up. Some he hadn't talked to in years. Some he hadn't talked to at all. Some of them probably didn't even consider themselves Dragomir. But it wasn't about that. It wasn't about everyone falling under one banner, or wearing some club t-shirt, or getting the company mug. It was about saying 'We belong to the same bloodline, and for better or worse, we are family.' Maybe nobody would turn up, and if that was the case, then at least he tried.
When he got into the Temple, he immediately made his way to the altar, sliding past pews and over the stonework so that he could lay his fingers on that smooth surface. Five minutes later, and he had called forth one of the demifae, caged it in a circle of power. By the time he was done commanding it, the semideus was enacting Azraeth's will, creating a field of peace inside the Temple. Eirene's Will. In case anyone decided they wanted to get clever. What was that about dragons and tempers? The Temple itself was filled with spirits, though that was not unusual. Some were there naturally, others Az had drawn.
He ended up seated on the altar, legs dangling as they had over the edge of the roof, arms loosely folded in his lap.
N O T E SOpen to all Dragomir (and technically anyone who might stumble into the Temple, since it's a public location).
No posting order for the first round. I will post in a couple of days to keep the plot moving. After the second round starts (with my second post), keep to posting order.
If someone doesn't reply within 24 hours of their 'turn', they can be skipped.
Feel free to jump in at any point. <3!
Az's Outfit
I will be vaguely GMing. Not really hardcore. I just want to make sure the plot keeps moving, but if you have ideas, feel free to introduce them in the thread and we can just roll with it. I'm totally fine with the unexpected!
There will be no combat, in the Temple. Outside, feel free >.>;; If that floats your boat.
For anything else, if you're unsure whether or not an in character action will work, feel free to use the dice roller.
Have fun!
