museboxofmuses | DRAGON AU

DRAGON AU

Prometheus hibernated a lot.

There wasn't much else to do, as a hermit-dragon. He couldn't venture out into the world in case some intrepid 'adventurer' wanted to slay him for bragging rights or his hide, he couldn't mingle with other dragons because he was one of Nidhogg's brood (a fact which was why he couldn't socialise with any Ishgardians because spears inevitably got involved in those conversations, he knew, he still had the scar on his hindquarters from his last naive attempt), and he knew absolutely no one else, knew nothing about the world or its new continents or civilisations, so hibernating it was.

But even then, sleeping got dull.

Prometheus sighed deeply, drawing his wings tighter about himself. Perhaps it was because he spent so much time sleeping, but his draconic body evolved to have furred wings - which was nice, it was very warm, even if they did shed some strange, fluffy black motes from time to time (he soon learned that these motes were highly toxic to mortals, probably from his subconscious desire to be left alone slipping into this body's maturing evolution). The downy undercoat of his wings was shed often and thickly enough that he even had a little nest, in a cave warmed by geothermic means, in the high mountains of Coethas. It was cosy, safe, and isolated.

It was also boring and devoid of anything. Prometheus came here... fuck, centuries? Or millennia? He couldn't remember. A long while, just after the war between Ishgard and the dragons kicked off in earnest. He flew here as a dragonnet, and slept and slept and slept, with miserable waking moments in between where he went to stretch his wings, eat a bear or something, and crawled back in his warm, soft cave to sleep some more.

He was avoiding reality, he knew. He didn't understand why he woke up in the form of a dragon - an alien species, not native to their star, how the hell did the reincarnation cycle mess up that badly!? - what happened to Amaurot, why the geography was completely different and... where Hades and Hythlodaeus were. He remembered, in the early days of his life, he would cry out through the Lifestream to hear nothing back, and was slowly accepting that, maybe, it was just him. Alone.

No Hades. No Hythlodaeus. Just him and his cave.

He exhaled heavily, flexing his claws as his body sluggishly roused from its latest bout of hibernation. His stomach was an empty pit of starvation, so he had to eat something calorie dense before dozing back off again. The only thing was, it took ages for his body to fully 'wake up'. Spending centuries practically in a coma made his limbs lock up, and it took a while for the aether flowing through his body to regain strength and feeling in them again. Not that he was in any rush...

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Prometheus had the oddest feeling that he just missed something, but... it was probably Lahabrea digging up his sense of decency somewhere. Truth be told, this was the most civil Lahabrea had spoken to him outside of the Convocation chamber, so maybe Prometheus dying horrifically in Xerora garnered some pity points in his favour.

Yeah, that sounded plausible. Prometheus shrugged off the niggling feeling without further thought.

"Lahabrea, you're being suspiciously nice to me," he mused, shifting to sit down on his haunches, his tail curling neatly over his feet. Even like this he towered over both of his fellow Amaurotines, "It's weirding me out."

But, hey, Prometheus shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, or, whatever that saying was.

So, with a mischievous little noise, he playfully nudged Hades by gently swaying into him, "If only he came by ten minutes ago, mm? Would've saved you all that effort you went through fucking me."

Yes, he did raise his voice slightly on the last two words. Look, okay, one thousand years without needling Lahabrea was much too long!

“It’s just a favor for Emet-Selch, don’t think about it too hard,” Lahabrea groused. Lahabrea made such a look of disgust as he snapped his fingers, redressing Hades.

“And this is the thanks I get, I see. Elidibus will be so pleased when I tell him that you’re back.” It was clear that Lahabrea was uneasy, even besides the inter species sex he was forced to imagine there.

“Now, now, Prometheus. Play nice,” Hades crooned.

“And you,” Lahabrea started. “Don’t shirk your duties just because your fucktoy showed up. Elidibus will be by with details.” Lahabrea turned to Prometheus. “Surely he will want to speak with you as well.”

Hades sighed and narrowed his eyes. This wasn’t going to get any easier, was it?

“Tell him I’ll meet with him at his place. I don’t conduct business here,” Hades said. “And anything Elidibus wants can pass through me.”

Prometheus's wings ruffled a little in offence at being called a 'fucktoy', but otherwise he was...

He was confused.

The conversation was flowing a bit too fast, and it was clear he was a little lost as his head swung from Hades to Lahabrea as they spoke. Elidibus wanting to speak to him was nothing new, he always had something to scold him for, but, what was with Hades's sudden defensiveness? Was Elidibus really angry with him for some reason? That was the only time Hades really played interference between them...

That niggling feeling of something 'not right' was creeping back.

"'His place'?" Prometheus repeated, his tone clearly uncertain, "Why would we go to Elidibus's home to talk to him? He normally lectures us in the Convocation Hall..." In fact, Prometheus was certain he'd never visited Elidibus's home once in all the time he'd known him!

Lahabrea leveled a stare at Prometheus as he slowly let out a breath. “You haven’t told him,” Lahabrea muttered. “Well, this is your mess. I’ve done all I care to do,” he tossed the necklace towards them, and Hades snatched it out of midair.

Hades frowned as Lahabrea turned and shadowalked away, disappearing entirely. Obnoxious, that’s exactly what Hades would have done.

Hades closed his eyes as he felt a powerful headache brewing. He opened his eyes, turned towards Prometheus, and draped the necklace over his horns.

"Told me wh-"

Prometheus stopped when a strange feeling rippled over him at the necklace draping over his horns, a disorientating wobble as his sense of gravity and height shifted dramatically. In a blink, he was human - on two legs, which was- uh, weird??

"Oof!" In a show of absolute grace, Prometheus wobbled and fell flat on his ass, blinking in total bewilderment as he stared at his knees on human legs, "Huh? What?"

Oh. The necklace... oh, that Lahabrea!

"Hmph, a little warning next time..." he grumbled, awkwardly trying to climb to his feet. It was... a work in progress because going from 1000 years with four legs and a tail to two legs and no tails was... yeah. It was clumsy.

“I’ll warn you next time,” he said, snapping his fingers to dress Prometheus in something he would wear ordinarily, especially somewhere so warm.

Hades smiled at Prometheus before his expression went very dark. He knelt, putting his arms out to take Prometheus’ hands. “Come inside, and I’ll tell you,” he said, eyes dark and watery. God, what to say. He knew he’d think of something, but how to explain it so he understood? Prometheus would never forgive lies. But how would he find out? He feared what Prometheus might remember...

Hades led him into the beautiful little house. The windows were distinctly amaurotine, the gardening so lush and calming... the inside was furnished beautifully and orderly, befitting of a man of his station.

He sat him in the sitting room, which held only three seats. He conjured a tea pot and stared at it for several seconds.

“Amaurot... is no more. None of the ancient cities still stand since the Doom.”

Prometheus climbed to his feet with the grace of a newborn deer, awkwardly walking using Hades for balance. He had an uneasy feeling - Hades looked solemn, his shoulders weighed down as he led him into the beautiful house. It was so Hades in design, Prometheus couldn't help but smile a little.

That smile didn't last when Hades sat him down and dropped that bombshell on him.

At first it didn't quite sink in. His mind couldn't quite comprehend the fact that Amaurot was gone. Yes, there'd been no trace of it when he first woke up in this world, but... he thought it was hidden away from these rushing, violent younger races. Not... gone. Completely? Utterly...?

"But, you said Amaurot was far away," he said blankly, his tone a little lost and confused.

Hades sighed, sat down next to Prometheus, and took his hands. His eyelashes were dewy, his eyes downcast as he chewed his lip. “Some of our buildings still stand, but the streets are empty. And it is far away. So far that I would be unable to take you there in your current body— Well. Maybe. Dragons are more durable...”

Hades chewed his lip, removing one of his hands just to wipe away the tears.

“But we’re working on it,” Hades said cryptically with a weary sigh. “We have been... for thousands of years. We’re making progress, but it’s so slow with so few of us.”

So few?

"Wait, are you saying..." Prometheus trailed off, really thinking about it. If he died in Xerora, then it stood to reason that if whatever was there killed him, then the average Amaurotine must've stood no chance. So, no Amaurot, so few of 'us'. It was simple maths. It was simple, awful, gut-wrenching maths.

"Oh," he said very quietly. He looked at Hades's hands clasping his, gently squeezing his fingers. So, that meant, the end of their civilisation. Hades witnessed that, endured that... ah, no wonder he asked for Prometheus to devour him. That put that bizarre moment into horrifying context.

"How did-" he stopped, realising he didn't want the gory details - or to make Hades recount them. Instead, he asked with a palpable feeling of dread; "How many of us...?"

Edited 2019-11-09 05:10 (UTC)

“Three of us survived with our souls intact. We have been able to revive others, slowly, when we find shards of their souls. That’s how Lahabrea found you. I built a lamp that could detect our people.” Hades pressed his thumbs into Prometheus’ hands.

“And they never have memories,” Hades added. “Well, until we give them their powers and shape back.”

Hades blinked away the mist from his eyes. He’d had so long to cry about it already. Even if it always hurt. “It’s so good to see your face again,” he said, moving to hold his face level to stare into his eyes.

Well, there was that at least, but-

Prometheus's mind snagged on that little detail: 'survived with our souls intact', 'shards of their souls'. The Xeroran Phenomena hadn't been entirely understood when Prometheus went to investigate it, the reports describing unnatural, persistent starfalls of a magical origin, exploding monster populations, and people suffering from mental degradation that either resulted in suicides or violent insanity. Nothing about sundering of souls - the amount of energy required to shatter the soul upon a physical death was staggering for one person - a Xeroran, to be exact, and not even an Amaurotine whose souls were considerably denser! So, what, the phenomenon couldn't be-

Unless the Sundering occurred during the soul's transition into the Lifestream beneath the planet's mantle? The reports had stated that the phenomenon was heralded by a 'scream from beneath the earth', so, hm, potential parasitical entity, mass-control over monster population to cull physical bodies, to harvest souls when they transitioned from temporary surface Lifestream to the 'Underworld'...? But, no, that would imply the soul was be devoured, not merely shattered. So, not a parasitical entity preying on souls - which was unlikely anyway since Prometheus doubted their planetary survey team would've missed such a dangerous creature lurking in the crust of their star - so, what? Aftereffect from the mental degradation? Erosion of Self, causing soul instability upon violent deaths- that could cause enough weakness for souls to crack, but not shatter to the point of creating shards.

He felt like the answer was there, he had the pieces for it, but his mind simply couldn't assemble the facts into a coherent theory. A dull headache started to thump behind his eyes, and he frowned, lowering his gaze to his knees. He should... know the answer. He felt like he already knew it, but... it was all clouded in fog, smeared and indistinct...

Hades was speaking, and Prometheus reluctantly stirred out of his thoughts. His headache was too distracting to dwell on it any further now.

"Yes, it is..." he said absently, then properly refocused on Hades, studying him closely. It was weird to 'see' with visual sight again - Hades face looked a little different, and so did his hair. Weird. But, the soul was undoubtedly Hades, with a faint fuzzing of Something around the edges. Contamination or scarring from whatever the hell killed off their people maybe?

"Hades," Prometheus started, then paused, because he wasn't sure what to say first. There was a lot to ask, to get clarification on, fuck, even a summary on the history of this world since the apocalypse, apparently. If only three people survived, what... just what have they been doing? Why was Prometheus possessing his memories if everyone else needed Hades, Lahabrea or Elidibus to intervene in their recovery? What was the end state here? Reviving Amaurot? Where would the city go? All these civilisations were already established, and Prometheus didn't want to imagine how these impatient, young races would react to a city of ancient, long-lived beings springing up and recommencing their duties as caretakers of the star. One only had to look at Ishgard-Dravanian relations to understand how violently they acted upon their jealousy and ignorance.

But, he knew Hades probably didn't want to talk about that right now. Stars, he was probably hoping for them to pick up where they left off before Prometheus apparently got killed, or eaten, or Sundered, or whatever the fuck happened to him. He couldn't begrudge him that, and, he supposed there was... time, for Hades to explain. It'd be unfair to demand a comprehensive explanation now, anyways. Right?

Right... yeah, right. That sounded right.

"So, I guess no Hythlodaeus to play mediator when we inevitably squabble about something," Prometheus said quietly. He intended it as a weak joke, but it came out sadder than he intended. He dropped his gaze again, exhaling shortly, "Sorry. I, yeah, it's lucky we managed to find each other like this, despite everything going to shit, apparently. I'm happy you found me, but... I dunno. This is a lot to process..."

“There’s not exactly no Hythlodaeus,” Hythlodaeus said from the doorway, sipping tea.

Hades looked up at him warily. “Sorry, I... often Create simulcrums when I get lonely.”

“I’m more of a shade at this point, don’t you think? I’m nothing like the inhabitants of that city you have stashed away under the ocean,” said Hythlodaeus.

“This is a lot to process,” Hades said with his eyes downcast, hoping Prometheus wouldn’t pick at that too much. “I would have preferred to tell you at a more digestible pace, but of all the fools to survive the apocalypse, it had to include Lahabrea. Stupid bastard.”

Prometheus jumped when Hythlodaeus's voice cut in abruptly, and his heart leapt with a hopeful kind of joy- that immediately crash landed viciously when he looked over to see just a simulacrum. Not the real thing, no matter how close to the original Hades made it.

"..." Prometheus slowly looked away from fake-Hythlodaeus, a discomforting feeling wriggling in his belly at the implication. Hades was so lonely he was pretty much playing with dolls with the past? That was... extremely concerning. Prometheus wasn't exactly a paragon of mental health but even he could see a bright red warning flag there.

"I always said he was like a cockroach," Prometheus muttered, finding it unfair that Lahabrea survived the apocalypse, but Hythlodaeus didn't. So unfair.

"Okay. Right, so, there's now four of us, technically, even if I can't do Creation magic anymore," Prometheus said briskly, finding comfort in having a Plan, or, knowing someone had a plan somewhere, "Our city's fucked, our entire civilisation is fucked, and I don't have the mental stamina to deal with this right now, so!"

He let go of Hades's hands to clap his own together, the sharp noise cutting through the sombre mood, "It's food time. I haven't eaten in a good few decades and, uh, I know this'll sound alarming but, I'm so hungry that I'm kinda getting the urge to eat you right now."

A dragon was a dragon, after all.

“Right,” Hades said, standing suddenly. Elidibus would be so pissed if he got himself eaten, especially after they had comparatively recent success. Hades walked over into the next room, snapping a feast into existence. Unthinkingly, it was a lot like the last thing he’d even eaten. It was a spread one could find daily in a noble house of Garlemald. It was good food, at least. Hearty, meaty, and plentiful. There were few fresh green vegetables, but he doubted that a dragon would care.

Hythlodaeus sat himself at the table. “Are you sure a dragon can even eat any of this?”

“Oh, right... would you prefer a bear, or something?”

Prometheus was a big steadier on his two legs when he followed Hades into the next room, and when the feast was snapped into existence... stars, he barely held back from drooling. He practically leapt into his seat, the chair tipping dangerously to one side from the speed which he jumped on it - not that he cared, because he was ravenous and this food smelled so good he actually felt almost aroused from it. Weird.

Whatever. Dwell on that later. Food.

"Mmmphggfff?" he grunted, barely hearing Hythlodaeus and Hades's chatter as he pretty much inhaled the thick, meaty ribeye (rare) steak that had been on his plate - which he ate with his hands, of course, because what was cutlery. He looked up from his plate, cheeks bulging and half a steak still dripping with gravy clutched between his hands. He looked very much like some feral man they brought in from the woods.

Hythlodaeus and Hades stared at one another for a moment after witnessing all that.

“Maybe he was always meant to be a dragon,” the simulacrum said.

“It’s soft meat, but still... that’s not difficult for you, is it?” Hades asked weakly as he poured himself a glass of wine. “I could conjure it already cut apart if you like...”

Let’s be real, Prometheus was a feral man they brought in from the woods.

“Did you really forget all your manners, Prometheus?”

Prometheus swallowed his mouthful, not ashamed in the slightest as he ripped another chunk of steak off with sharp canines. Thanks, Lahabrea, for letting him keep them, at least.

"What'd I do with manners as a dragon?" he asked cheekily, but he did temper his inhaling so he looked... well, less pig-like maybe. He still ate with his hands, though, pausing to lick and suck gravy and lingering juice off his fingers when they got too drippy. In no time at all he polished off his steak, though it barely put a dent in his appetite.

He usually ate fully grown polar bears, after all, which were slightly heavier than his dragon form. A little steak was a drop compared to that.

Prometheus considered this, licking his lips clean.

"I'm gonna need..." he made a quick calculation, "Another hundred of those, at least. Or just gimme an entire bear- actually, no, I'm sick of bears. They're all I've eaten for centuries..." What was as big as a bear, but not too tough with lean muscle? "A wisent. I want a wisent."

Hades raised his eyebrows, sat back with his wine, and waved his hand over the feast to disperse it. He made a motion with his hand like he was trying to make a wine glass sing, then clenched his fist.

A sleepy wisent appeared on the table. Hades flicked his wrist sending a bolt of dark energy through the back of its head. As it fell limp, Hades flicked his fingers, causing the skin to split and fly off. He rotated the beast, and as he drew lines in the air, the thing began to fall apart. The blood pooled off the table and onto the floor. Hades continued to manipulate the thing, flaying and separating it. By the time he was done, the thing was pulled apart in a macabre spread. The flesh was cut into in criss crossing strokes that one may pluck it apart like a pineapple.

“Enjoy, dearest,” he said even as he was dematerializing the less savory parts of the animal.

Edited 2019-11-09 23:38 (UTC)

Well, that was. A thing that just happened.

Prometheus stared in morbid fascination, slowly glancing at the Hythlodaeus simulacrum who was sipping his wine like this was perfectly normal. For all Prometheus knew, it probably was. Maybe Hades developed a habit of just fucking summoning animals to kill and carve them up for dinner on a regular basis. If he only had Lahabrea and Elidibus for company, he must've been bored to insanity.

"...thanks," he said belatedly, eyeing the wisent chunks. Ah, it wasn't the same as ripping the corpse apart under fang and claw. Maybe it was his dragon instincts having too much influence, but there was a sense of dissatisfaction as he took one of the soft, red chunks and popped it into his mouth.

"..." he chewed slowly, the mumbled quietly, "I wanted to hunt it."

“Easy enough.”

Hades stared placidly at the corpse. He snapped his fingers, and the creature began to heal and reform. He flicked his wrist, reskinning it. He wound his fingers in the air before tugging the creature’s essence from the lifestream. It came back to life, drowsily standing on the large banquet table.

“Go on,” Hades said, scooting his chair back to watch. “Remember, you need only to remove your necklace to take your shape.”

Okay, now Hades was just showing off! Advanced reanimation was always a tricky skill to have, and that was... weirdly sophisticated, even for Hades. Had he always been able to do that?

"It's kinda like shooting fish in a barrel, isn't it?" Prometheus groused, but he stood up and took a few steps back. The room was big but... wasn't Hades worried about him wrecking the place? It really felt like Hades was indulging him but, fine, okay, if he wanted to watch dragon him viscerally eat a wisent, he wasn't gonna judge him on his weird tastes.

Prometheus took off the necklace, hurriedly dropped it at his feet as he shifted back to dragon form. Ah, that felt better, if a bit disorientating shifting perspective and senses again. He gave himself a bit of a shake, letting his clawed wings unfurl from his back as the wisent seemed to realise the danger it was in.

It didn't have time to dwell on it.

On instinct tempered with experience, Prometheus lunged forwards. His jaws weren't made for clamping down on a wisent, or even a bear's, thick neck, and his fangs weren't sharp enough to even pierce through thick fur or muscle. No, no, no, Prometheus's method of killing was something simpler - and brutal.

He lunged, his forelegs clamping onto the wisent's shoulder, just for purchase, then, one wing extended up, its thick, long claws stretching out... then smashing down with enough force that the loud 'snap' of the wisent's spine cut through the air like a cracking whip. The wisent didn't even get a chance to bellow. One strike. Done. Neck and spinal cord severed and broken, windpipe crushed, dead.

Prometheus waited, though, pausing as he pressed all his weight down on that wing until he was satisfied the wisent was thoroughly dead.

"Better," he said, sounding satisfied.

“So particular. When did you get so fussy, Prometheus?” Hades asked, watching him go all National Geographic on the hapless beast. “Next time I’ll summon it outside, let you chase it a bit.”

Hades seemed to be adapting quickly to the love of his life being a literal beast.

Hythlodaeus stood and dematerialized the blood splatters from his clothing. Hades snapped his fingers, teleporting all of them outside.

“I nearly forgot, I have a precious piece of art in that room. Well. Continue,” Hades said, drinking down his wine. “I’ll have to remodel, don't you think?” Hades asked. “Since you’ll... be staying with me, right?”

They were in a small grassy clearing with low, broad leafed tropical plants, tall palm trees, and soft silty sand beneath their feet. The trees offered lovely shade and cover as the morning mist began to form.

Prometheus dug his claws into his meal when Hades hooked him into a teleport, just to make sure he kept it close. He exhaled shortly once he adjusted to his new location - outside - rolling the corpse over to expose its belly. He promptly ripped into it with his wingclaws.

"Of course I'll stay with you," Prometheus sighed, "What, you want me to go back to my depressing cave?"

It was a rhetorical question, but there was a niggle of genuine worry. Prometheus was a beast now, and Hades was rapidly adjusting to that fact but... still, an irrational worry Hades would turn around and think twice about continuing this on. Especially since he had other shit to deal with, like the aftermath of the apocalypse...

The belly now ripped open, Prometheus settled his wingclaws on the beast's flank and shoulder respectively, keeping it steady for the next part. He hesitated, lifting his head in Hades's direction.

"...you're not bothered about this, are you?"

“.... Darling, I’m twelve-thousand years old now. I have quite literally seen it all,” he said swirling his glass as it refilled itself. This was nothing compared to Amaurot. Nothing compared to the atrocities he had overseen in the Allagan Empire, the Garlean Empire. Ever the scientist, nothing made his stomach turn anymore.

Hades lazily conjured a hammock and settled into it with a contented sigh. Hythlodaeus joined him, making Hades spill his wine everywhere as Hythlodaeus laughed. Hades cursed softly as he Created more wine in his glass.

“Why would I want you in that horrible cave?” He said, flinging rhetoric at the rhetorical.

Prometheus watched Hythlodaeus and Hades rock together in the hammock, a strange feeling bubbling in his stomach. It was probably hunger cramps, but it made him briefly lose his appetite, whatever it was.

"Hm," he said vaguely, ducking his head and focusing on eating his meal before it went to waste. He started on the soft parts, guzzling up all the organs, using his powerful wings to move the carcass as needed to get a better angle, occasionally cracking the ribcage open wider.

He went on like that, devouring the carcass - bones, pelt and all - until nothing was left but bloodstains on the sand. He exhaled heavily when he was done, feeling stuffed and bloated - but satisfied. With that, if he didn't hibernate again, he wouldn't need to eat for a week. He cleaned the blood off his snout and claws, giving his wings a bit of a shake to dislodge sand from the furred membrane, before heaving himself to his feet.

He lumbered over to Hythlodaeus and Hades's hammock, sitting down heavily once he reached it and rested his head on Hades's belly, snout pressed against Hythlodaeus's side.

"M'stuffed..." he mumbled.

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