whiskey on ice

Aithne

I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed

Aithne delves deep into the Burrows, deeper than she dreamed possible. She's new to the world, and yet even her imagination could not prepare her for the huge, open world that has awaited her all this time outside of Stormbreak and her overbearing parents' clutches. It's incredible what one can discover when out from under a controlling thumb.

Like these caverns. Soulfire Reach is a glittering flower composed of crystals in rainbow hues. Some of the crystals tower over her in columns to the ceiling; others are no larger than her thumbnail. All are gorgeous.

Aithne pauses before a large crystal that's almost glasslike, admiring her appearance. She bares a fanged grin at her reflection, reaching up to touch the new, black star sapphire horns that curve along the top of her head. She turns her head this way and that, admiring the way they catch the light, the way her hair curls around them, as though they were always meant to be a part of her. Her spade-tipped tail flicks behind her, and she laughs, spinning amongst the crystals, for the sheer joy of being free.

We never had a shotgun shot in the dark

they say I did something bad, so why's it feel so good?

Charlie materializes between two jagged towers of crystal, wreathed in lazy tendrils of golden fire that curl and vanish around her. Her heels click softly against the sticky floor, the sound oddly musical amidst the otherworldly hush. She's dressed in a gown of black and gold that catches the light with every step, her ruby horns glinting, her spade-tipped tail flicking behind her like a metronome to her swagger.

She spots the movement first: the laughing spin of someone utterly at ease in the glittering cavern. It's enough to draw a wide grin across Charlie's trf lips, and without hesitation—as if the world itself had cleared a path for her—she drifts toward the other woman.

"Well, don't you look like a dream," Charlie purrs, voice low and musical as the crystals hum around them. Her bright blue eyes sparkle with delight as she takes in the sight of Aithne—the curling dark horns, the flash of fangs, the exuberance that rolls off her like heat from a bonfire. Charlie's tail flicks once, lazily, behind her as she steps into the full light, her hands spreading in a showy, theatrical gesture. "I'm Charlie. And you, babe, are absolutely killing it with those horns." She winks, standing there as if she'd been conjured from the molten heart of the cavern itself, already utterly charmed.

Aithne

I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed

Aithne's spinning glee is interrupted, and she turns to find a woman with ruby horns and a spade-tipped tail sauntering towards her, clearly just as at ease in the beautiful caverns as Aithne herself. She tilts her head, her dark, curly hair cascading to one side, revealing a little more of one of her glinting horns in the dim light. She preens under the woman's praise, offering a fanged grin and a charming giggle. "I'm Aithne," she replies, her voice silky smooth as it bounces against the crystals.

She reaches up to touch a horn, running her fingers along the curve. She likes how she looks with the new appendages, but it's nice to hear someone else compliment them. "They're new," she admits almost shyly, unsure how she'll be received by someone else like her. This is her first meeting with another Ancient - aside from Soren, but he changed at the same time she did - and she finds herself eager to make a good impression.

We never had a shotgun shot in the dark

they say I did something bad, so why's it feel so good?

"Gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl." The priestess's grin only broadens as Aithne preens and touches her new horns — such a natural, instinctive gesture that Charlie's heart swells with easy affection.

Moving closer, the heat radiating from Charlie flickers subtly against the jewel-toned air. "New, huh?" she echoes, voice dropping to a conspiratorial purr as her eyes drift appreciatively over Aithne's star-sapphire horns, her shimmering tail, the way she practically vibrates with life. "They suit you," she says warmly, tilting her head so the crystals catch and scatter the light over her own ruby horns. "Perfectly, actually. It's like you’ve been this way all along — you just needed the right moment to remember."

Charlie offers her arm without hesitation, a casual, familiar gesture as if they'd known each other forever. "Come on. Let’s wander. Soulfire Reach loves a good celebration," she says, her voice alight with mischief. "And it’s practically humming at the sight of you."

Lowering her voice, she leans in with a playful smirk. "Ancient to Ancient, first lesson? Always enjoy the hell out of new skin. It’s what Dygra would want." Charlie winks and, unless Aithne hesitates, will lead her deeper into the sparkling cavern, their reflections dancing side by side across the gem-studded walls.

Aithne

I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed

"Awww, thank you!" Aithne gushes, charmed by Charlie's general vibe. As the other Ancient moves closer, the girl drops her hand from her horn. "It feels that way," she adds, taking Charlie's arm without hesitation. "Like this was what I was always supposed to be, only life -" She gestures vaguely around. "- just now figured it out."

She follows along as the woman leads her through the Soulfire Reach, her gaze darting over crystals in rainbow hues with appreciation. Aithne has always liked the finer things in life, and what, after all, could be prettier than a cavern full of gems? "I've been exploring the Climb," she says as they walk. "I liked the Cathedral, but Soulfire Reach... it just feels different. Is that bad to say, when the shrine is in the Cathedral?"

We never had a shotgun shot in the dark

they say I did something bad, so why's it feel so good?

"Oh, gods, nooo," Charlie laughs, her voice bubbling like champagne, instantly and utterly dismissive in the most reassuring way. "The Cathedral is beautiful, sure. But Dygra? She's not the pews-and-pomp sort of goddess. She’s chaos in silk gloves. She’d turn that whole shrine into a snake pit or a dancefloor if she felt like it." With a flick of her wrist, a tiny flame sparks from her fingers and pirouettes through the air before dissolving into the warm jewel-toned haze.

The priestess flashes Aithne a bright smile, the kind that makes her eyes crinkle and her ruby horns catch firelight like stained glass. "There’s no wrong place to feel her. No right one either, really. It’s just... wherever your heart skips a beat. That’s where she is." And with that, she gently squeezes Aithne’s arm, her tail flicking lazily behind them as they pass a wall that ripples with reflected flame and gemstone shimmer.

"Actually," she adds with a conspiratorial grin, "Asta, Danta, and I—they're both utterly divine in their own ways—we built a shrine in the Temple recently. Spent hours carving and arranging and lighting it just right. And it is stunning." Charlie's voice dips in mock reverence before she snorts softly. "But if it was up to me, I'd way rather call out to Dygra out in the open, maybe right after a kill or a good orgasm, y'know?" She twirls her fingers in the sticky air, gesturing to the Reach and back toward the Cathedral.

"Places are just places. It's the feeling that matters most to Dygra."

Aithne

I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed

Aithne's dark gaze follows the lick of flame as it spirits through the air, reflecting in the various crystals surrounding them, something hungry in her eyes as though counting down the days until she, too, can wield fire. They continue through the cavern, Aithne's eyes darting this way and that, reveling in the chaotic beauty of the gemstones. One in particular catches her eye: it runs floor to ceiling, and it so clear that it might be glass if not for the shards of color embedded deep within.

She draws to a slow stop - more of a pause than a true halt - as she admires, listening to Charlie as she shares more about the goddess that Aithne now calls her patroness. "That makes sense - I think," she says, cutting a sidelong glance at Charlie. "You seem to know a great deal about her." Are all Ancients that way? Aithne can't help but feel as though she has some catching up to do.

We never had a shotgun shot in the dark

they say I did something bad, so why's it feel so good?

Charlie’s mouth curves into something half proud, half wicked as Aithne eyes her sideways. "Mm, you could say that," she hums, drawing to a gentle stop beside the younger Ancient, the crimson silk of her gown pooling like spilled wine around her heels. Her gaze sweeps the tall, prism-shot crystal Aithne’s paused to admire, and in its flickering reflections, the priestess lets the past slip off her tongue like the edge of a purr.

"Before I was frozen—ugh, by some bitter little Abandoned farmer with a grudge—I was one of Dygra’s high priestesses." Her tail flicks once, lazily, like a cat recounting how it used to rule a kingdom. "This was back in the early days. Real early. When all of us lived up here in the Climb, close together. Back when you could run into Dygra herself in the corridor outside your cave and she'd offer you a fig or a dare depending on her mood."

There’s a flicker of nostalgia in Charlie’s expression—warm and glittering, but edged in mischief. "My job was...well, sort of everything. I hosted ceremonies to guide people through their bloodlust, blessed new bonds, helped with the creation of traditions. Sometimes that meant tending to grief. Other times it meant throwing an orgy under the stars." She shrugs delicately, her ruby horns catching the firelight like melted garnet. "Mostly, it was about keeping everyone in tune with themselves. With each other. With Dygra."

A soft chuckle rises from her throat, and she casts Aithne a sidelong glance, eyes gleaming. "Being happy, feeling pleasure, releasing chaos into the world was all I was really concerned about. Still is, really." She steps in closer, warmth radiating like a hearthfire.

Aithne

I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed

Aithne pauses alongside Charlie, her gaze meeting the shorter Ancient's in the reflection of the crystal she's stopped to admire. She listens as the priestess recounts the past, her intrigue growing sharper with each word that drops from Charlie's tongue. If she'd had to guess, she'd have aged the woman in her late twenties - but the time past that she speaks of is, well, ancient, and Aithne can only hope that she looks this good when she's that age.

And her job as a high priestess - well, Aithne can certainly appreciate someone so given to their goddess and their cause. Happiness, pleasure, chaos? That's all that the girl has signed up for and more. "Do you ever take on students?" she asks with a bright laugh. "Because that's all exactly what I've been looking for."

We never had a shotgun shot in the dark