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Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
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#1

Immediately after she’s done with Loren, Abasi, and Sunjata, Wessex heads to the temple proper where there’s a piece of parchment weight down with a paperweight, a pen and ink, the telephone shell, and the creation amulet on the old altar. Considering the shell for a moment, she makes a quick decision that this is not the time to use it. Maybe later. Instead, she picks up the pen and writes the following, recalling everyone who came through the doors (or who has said they will be there):

Doors closed at the Temple. Inside:
Wessex
Loren + kids
Phoebe + Roana’s kids
James
Ezra
Abasi
Rexanna
Bastien
Oliver
Sunjata
Lusea
Clemente
Amun
Aonghas
Dante
Granger

Tested by Monsters at the cellar door. They know about the panel. Everything ok.


Wessex doesn’t expect an immediate response from, say, Ronin, or anyone else over there. So she sits back and tries to compartmentalize her thoughts, sifting through plans and people with a far away expression on her face.

WESSEX
come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts
unsex me here
Amun Arlun
Potter

Age: 41 | Height: 5'7'' | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 11 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 34 - Endr: 28 - Luck: 30 - Int: 1
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#2
amun
Well, LongNight had been boring up until recently. Granted, Amun wasn’t exactly the run headlong into danger sort, so he wasn’t looking forward to more monsters. However, after all the hype about how lethal it was during the dark week, so far it had seemed relatively tame. While he’d seen Wessex dash off, along with a bunch of men (kinky), he hadn’t experienced the monsters himself, at least not yet. Hopefully not ever: while he was not thrilled to be locked inside, he also wasn’t the heroic type, so he’d leave the shenanigans to those who had a death wish or martyr complex.

However, when the queen had returned and started furiously scribbling before sitting back with a much too serious expression on her face, the potter had meandered over to her. That wouldn't do. Besides, The Voice had instructed him to get close to his fellow Ascended and there was no time like the present. Especially since all he seemed able to do was talk. Hopefully it wouldn't make him a dull boy. ”Writing in your diary, Princess?” He peered over her shoulder and glanced at the list of people, and at the news, his eyes lingering on certain names. Only one person’s started with a J, and he found himself smirking. Gotcha. ”What’s this panel?” If it was important enough to mention, he wanted to know all about it.
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Clemente Belcourt
Apprentice

Age: 23 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 13 - Luck: 16 - Int:
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#3
Clemente
Clemente isn't exactly the most patient boy, but he's certainly practiced it enough to turn it into a rewarding enough virtue. Rexanna's descriptions of Wessex would have been enough, but the Penumbra - more than aware of Clem's infatuation with the Wraith's legacy, and likely finding it hopelessly amusing - had pointed out the Queen subtly as soon as they had all gathered. Clem hadn't wanted to seem stupid, desperately wanted to impress the Queen, and she was admittedly intimidating just by virtue of her presence.

And then, well. Amun. Isn't that explanation enough?

Clem isn't the nicest teenager to be around, he's aware of that, but he's also kind of a little asshole just by nature. So when he sees Amun waddling his little way towards Wessex, his own meager hackles go up, and he slinks his long-legged way to his Queen's side.

It's almost easy to ignore the annoying tiny man in the glow of idolization that nearly blinds him as he approaches Wessex. She's just so cool. Hearing her sharp orders, her no-nonsense approach to protecting them all even muted by walls and weird miss, Clem was already impressed. He sidles up to Wessex's elbow, leaving a wide berth between him and Amun, not quite willing to forgive the perceived slight against Rexanna just yet. "Hi, he says stupidly, a little shy and starstruck, but he's quickly knocked out of it and makes a blatant face at Amun's nickname. Because well. Clem is an asshole.

"Can we exile him for calling you the wrong title?" he whispers at Wessex, though it's mostly - kinda - harmless teasing and Amun might be able to hear it. But if Amun ends up bothering Wessex too, Clem might just have to like chew on his ankle or something. He's not really creative but maybe a guy with a limp or a missing foot wouldn't get laid as much as he seemed to want. He at least manages to give a tiny fanged grin at Amun. If they have a relationship built on relentless assholery, that's totally fine by Clem. It's even kinda fun.

Clem edges closer, keeping his eyes off the paper, not wanting to be rude when he desperately wants his Queen to like him. "Can I help do something?" Maybe he could at least make himself useful to her.
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
Played by: Astor Offline
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Posts: 3,156 | Total: 4,350
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#4

One Ascended, two Ascended, three Ascended… four. There may be only four of them left by the end of LongNight, though none of them here know that.

Amun may be the last person she wants to see now - or the best person, depending on what he says. But the boy? The boy is unexpected. She makes a face at her flunkie, mostly for the quip about a diary (because they both know that Wessex doesn’t have the patience or the energy to spend any time in quiet reflection), but her attention is quickly pulled as the youngest of them appears at her elbow. “Hi,” she says, obviously surprised to see him. She’d heard that there was a baby baby among them, but things had been so hectic, she hadn’t had the time to make the proper introductions.

Nevertheless, she finds herself smiling. “Nah. He gets to call me that because he does things for me and I sometimes beat him up.” And then leaning in a little to Clem while obviously staring at Amun the whole time, she says in an exaggerated whisper, “Besides, a nickname means he likes you.” And she could use a #TeamWessex pep talk right now. “No one really calls me ‘Queen.’ Wessex is fine. What’s your name?”

After a moment, she considers both Amun and Clem and gives a little shrug at the boy’s question. The panel bit can wait. “Sure. I could use someone smart and unsuspecting. What are you good at?” She sends a tiny wink to Amun. Come on, join in. All questions will be answered in due time.

WESSEX
come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts
unsex me here
Amun Arlun
Potter

Age: 41 | Height: 5'7'' | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 11 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 34 - Endr: 28 - Luck: 30 - Int: 1
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#5
amun
Alright, Wessex wasn’t in a chatty mood if the face she made at Amun’s comment was any indication. That was alright: he was more than happy to fill her ears with ridiculous chatter until she joined the banter. However, before he could, they were joined by the brat. Or at least, that’s what the potter called the boy, since Amun hadn’t gotten the brat’s name. Before the potter could respond—yeah, like a quip would get him exiled where literally everything else he’d done hadn't—the queen spoke. At her words, Amun winked at her, totally willing to let that statement stand as it was. Kinky.

A nickname did mean the potter liked someone. ”That’s right. Haven’t found one for you yet. Don't worry, I’ll figure something out though.” This time, his voice came out easily and with an almost friendly tone, without a hint of challenge; unlike Amun’s last encounter with the boy, the potter wasn’t trying to seduce one person while deliberately annoying another. Amun was willing and able to play nice. He preferred, it, honestly. Normally, he actually wanted people to have a good time. The stuffiness of the art project had just rubbed him the wrong way. Not sexually or fun, that was. For now, the brat would be spared more talk of orgies and anything exciting, really.

However, Amun couldn’t let the boy one up the potter Walking forward, he leaned one hip against the table with the fancy schmancy magical items. He had to get himself some of these. That was a thought for later, though. ”You know I’m up for anything, Princess.” If she needed some support, he’d be here for her. And unlike that time he’d run from a fight, this time he’d stick by her. The Voice had impressed upon him the importance of the Ascended banding together. So for now, he’d trust in that.
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Clemente Belcourt
Apprentice

Age: 23 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#6
Clemente
Despite being awkwardly taller than all of them, Clem feels like he's staring up into the light of a fierce, dying star when Wessex turns her gaze to him. The Wraith. Clemente had not experienced a proper upbringing, but certain lessons had been inscribed in his marrow. One had been kinship, loyalty, devotion. There was always a pinnacle, a leader, a point to a needle on a compass that would always guide you home. Few were granted that status on the streets, but they had existed. And whether it's his own childish idolization, or some deeper understanding that he is hers much in the way he will come to understand he is the Voice's, Clem doesn't think to question it.

Already, as she speaks and teases Amun just as he had, Clem can't withhold his strained excited whisper; "Cool." She certainly looks like she's capable of kicking Amun's ass. That's already enough to make him giddy before she confirms that she willingly would. Her exaggerated whisper gets a little giggle from him that's a bit too young, and he tries to choke it down but his eyes remain bright with mirth at the ongoing teasing.

Then Amun is speaking, and Clem feels his hackles smooth, smiling tentatively at the man, fangs poking awkwardly at his lips. Forgiveness for rough words and annoyances is just habit at this point. Soft words didn't have a place in his upbringing, holding a grudge against any who pissed him off would have starved him out of connections years ago.

"Don't hurt yourself comin' up with one," he teases, but his lopsided smile doesn't shift. A tiny olive branch, if the man cares to take it from the teenager. But then Wessex is asking for his name and Clem turns to her like nobody and nothing else exists in the world. "Clemente, but uh. Y'can call me Clem." He tries to force himself still, pulled up proud instead of shuffling his feet shyly. Bites back on the gushing he wants to do and forces himself not to immediately speak when she accepts his help. He's gotta make himself look cool.

"I'm a quick learner, what d'ya need?" Green eyes go flinty and sharp, lips twisting just as dangerously. A ghost that speaks to his terrible youth, the things he'd done to survive, the talents he'd accumulated that he now lay at Wessex's feet for her to wield at her leisure. Because she is his Queen, in more ways than political, and Clem has never wanted anything more than to belong.
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
Played by: Astor Offline
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Posts: 3,156 | Total: 4,350
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#7

“Clem,” she repeats, sticking out her hand a second later. And she knows Amun disapproves of her shaking hands, of treating others like ‘equals’ (though let’s be honest, all three parties know the boy isn’t her equal), but it’s not about that. It’s about a nod of recognition. An extension of goodwill and if we’re going to go with the whole fealty and protector thing - a promise - which Clem may not realize now, but will hopefully come to in good time.

That Wessex will have their backs if they have hers; they are bound together in minority and adversity and as the one who currently has the most power, the Wraith will do all she can to ensure their survival.

Unless you do something stupid like go out at LongNight. Then you might be on your own.

“Welcome to the family, kid.” They’re a little fucked up, but hey, what family isn’t?

Turning her head to Amun, she snort-laughs. “Clearly. Neither the Mathair portal nor stabbing you scared you off.” A brief pause. “You know that’s messed up, right?” The slight grin on her face, however. indicates that she likes it, even if it is masochistic. Amun’s thoughts about her being kinky may not be too far off the mark…

What does she need? A PR manager. A revamped image. The ability to project the magical light of a large herd of luxere all by herself. For everyone to think like she does. What does she need? Everything.

“Right now I need you to stay inside and keep an eye on things. In an unobtrusive way. Maybe within eavesdropping distance of anyone using the shell to talk to the Guildhall. Or meet some new people. Play up the new kid thing. You don’t even have to pretend to like me.” This would be good practice for being a spy later, but for now all Wessex really wants to keep these two alive. ‘And when I’m close, you can talk to me like this. No one else can hear you. ’

“What do you think, Amun? Any other ideas for Clem?”

WESSEX
come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts
unsex me here
Amun Arlun
Potter

Age: 41 | Height: 5'7'' | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 11 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 34 - Endr: 28 - Luck: 30 - Int: 1
ZHANSHI - Mythical - Landshark (Airbending)
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#8
amun
Wessex and Amun had already had their back and forth about proper ways for queen’s to act. This didn’t seem like the time or place to go for round two. Best to wait until after LongNight to work on image issues. While he caught enough of the conversation between the boy and the queen, the potter decided to let them have their moment. The adoring puppy dog eyes Clem turned on her were so obvious that Amun barely held back from making a snarky comment. Somehow, he managed. That turned out to be for the best, as the boy seemed to have forgiven the potter. All was well.

Clem. Terrible nickname. They could do way better than that. Amun grinned at the boy as Wessex shook Clem’s hand. ”Don’t worry, I won’t. Good thing we don’t feel pain.” The grin widened at the queen’s words. ”What she said. Welcome.” And like all families, they were a bit fucked up, but hey, the best families were.

Then it was Wessex’s turn: the potter’s grin gained a little bit of a wicked edge as she commented on his recent behavior. However, he made sure to tone it down for the kid’s sake. Indeed, Amun looked positively tamed, more mischievous than anything else. ”You say that like it was all bad. Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself.” Then, though, she gives them their very serious orders. Spying and being unobtrusive and friendly. Cool. Easy enough. However, the trick with the telepathy was neat; he’d had it, once upon a time, so he raised his eyebrows, not having any trouble with the idea or the act. I knew you had me on your mind, Princess. Hopefully Clem couldn’t hear the teasing tone in Amun’s mental voice.

He should probably acknolwedge the commands out loud. ”As you wish, Princess.” As she asked for the potter’s opinion, though, he smiled gently. ”That pretty much covers it. So I’ll just say that people will overlook you cause of your youth, Swift." Quick learner, swift, good enough. "Use that, listen more than you speak, and you’ll do just fine. Oh and stick close. The Voice told me we’re all gonna have to work together once LongNight is over.” Maybe it wasn’t the best thing to say out loud, so he lowered his voice for that last part.
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Clemente Belcourt
Apprentice

Age: 23 | Height: 5'9 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#9
Clemente
Clem feels like he's in one of those slow motion scenes in an action flick when Wessex presents her hand. He probably looks robotic with how he clamps down on any desire to tremble or rush, clasping his hand to hers and shaking firmly. She's just so fucking cool holy shit. And then -

"Welcome to the family, kid."

Clemente freezes, pale eyes wide and flickering with a myriad of emotions he can't hope to conceal from her. She is offering him the one thing he has always wanted, something that was never even granted to him in the first place. A family, a place to belong. People like him who will have his back, look out for him even if it's just on the most basic level. Being a single face in a sea of followers doesn't bother Clem, not when it means he's part of the united whole. "Thank you," he says earnestly, gaze moving between them as Amun adds his welcome. He doesn't expand on his gratitude if only for lack of proper vocabulary to describe how he feels. Not that he would have, if only to save face in front of the pair of them.

He still has to try and look cool, even if he's practically on the equator with how chill he is at this point.

Then they're giving him his task, and his spine straightens, drawing him to his full gangly height over them as he absorbs every task and offered advice. He jolts a little at the mental connection, eyes wide, but his mouth erupts in a fanged grin at the prospect of telepathy. That's useful. Clem certainly would have made use of that on the streets if he'd had such a cool talent. Amun speaks last, bestowing his new nickname - and Clem doesn't even mind it actually - as well as a small warning. Clem nods seriously, already abuzz with energy and the desire to go sneaking around on his Queen's behalf. He's not exactly sure what Amun is to him, so he's just kinda an additional mouth. Seems right. "I'm good at blending in, I'll see what I can find out." He's slightly intimidated by the idea that people might just not say anything interesting around him, but Clem fully intends to become the perfect fly on the wall.
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
Played by: Astor Offline
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Posts: 3,156 | Total: 4,350
MP: 0
#10

Everyone needs some puppy dog eyes on them every now and then, and Wessex rarely, or rather never gets them, so can we just let her have this? Throwing her head back a little, the Queen smiles and yes, even laughs. “I always enjoy those kinds of things. Was never worried about that. She wasn’t worried about his enjoyment either, truth be told. Or anyone else’s.

Nodding as the conversation moves on, Wessex agrees with Amun.

“We’ve got a new world to explore, the Fae to deal with, and this shit hole to still run.” Well, ‘we’ is a loose term, really. There’s a little bit of an edge to her voice, one that rarely comes out except in ‘trusted’ company. For better or worse, she trusts these two. Maybe not with sensitive information, but to back her up if and when the time comes. To help when she needs some slack picked up, because she still hasn’t figured out how to be in two places in once, like Ronin has.  

Looking to Clem, Wessex smiles again. “If you haven’t met the Voice yet, you should when LongNight is up. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to meet you.” Cause if he thinks the Queen is worthy of hero-worship, he should see the benevolent face of their Goddess. She who can do many, many things and fights for nothing more than equal standing, that which is worthy of her power.

At the very least, she can see the energy the boy has and since there’s little more she has time to do right now - they can have a ‘get to know you’ chat later, the Ascended gestures to the open area and with a sly, pleased look, bids Clem go out and do his thing. “Good. I expect a full report after LongNight.”

As for Amun - turning to the man, the Queen lifts a brow and offers him a look that clearly asks if there’s anything else. He did have some questions, but if they aren’t necessary, they can all move on and about their… weeklong activities.

WESSEX
come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts
unsex me here
Amun Arlun
Potter

Age: 41 | Height: 5'7'' | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 11 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 34 - Endr: 28 - Luck: 30 - Int: 1
ZHANSHI - Mythical - Landshark (Airbending)
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#11
amun
Amun could help but snicker at the look on the kid’s face. He looked dumstruck by Wessex, and at the queen’s words. Unlike the potter, who was irreverent at the best of times, poor Clem would probably be eating out of Wessex’s hands for the boy’s whole life. Which would be a long life. Maybe forever. ”You’re welcome.” The snicker had morphed into a grin, though it was kindly enough.

As the queen quipped about their physical activities—and Amun’s proclivity for getting stabbed and battered—his smile gained a wicked edge. ”Always happy to provide you with a bit of entertainment, Princess.” Since they’d both explained they weren’t each other’s types, he seriously doubted she’d take him up on that offer. As for things he found enjoyable, well, one thing the queen said made him happy. ”I like exploring.” Less so the other two: he’d had his fill of Fae and was planning to leave this shit hole far far behind him.

When Wessex brought up The Voice, the potter nodded in agreement. The goddess loved all her ‘bright ones.’ As for Amun, no, he didn’t have any questions, so at the inquiring look the queen sent his way, the potter just grinned and shook his head. I’m good. Turning to Clem, Amun gave the boy a jaunty wave. ”See you around, swift.” There were other, less choice nicknames the potter could’ve used, but he would stick with swift for now until something more suitable came up.
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