[ P ] Shades of Night

The days were growing longer as the spring conquered the winter, as was the nature of life -- one thing overpowered another, and none of it lasted forever, but there was a certain enchantment in the breakdown, a beauty in the harshness of the cycle that every mortal was a hapless participant within. Rhiannon had been freed from the king’s dungeon for weeks now, but the horror of the memory remained, and she remained resolute in her outrage. They had attempted to crush her, but had achieved only the opposite.


The sun was nearing the skies’ western horizon, painting everything in hues of scarlet and orange. The promise of night brought some semblance of comfort to Rhiannon, who had always been a creature of the darkness. She was searching for a particular plant that evening. Here, deadly nightshade grew, and she was pleased to find its familiar green sprouting amongst the more innocent species of plants. To the ignorant, atropa belladonna looked no different than the other shrubs, but to those who knew its lethal potential, it was something to be avoided… unless, of course, one had a specific purpose for it.


She was careful not to ingest any of it, cautiously digging at it to harvest. The silver woman was not entirely certain what she would do with it, only that it was necessary to procure at this time. To her chagrin, however, an unfamiliar scent wafted to her attention, and a scowl automatically crossed her visage as she stood to find the source of the unfortunately masculine smell.

@Arythmetik

art & code by alexandre

A R Y T H M E T I K

The fiery sunset lit the hues of his fur in shimmering brilliance: a cascade of red-orange and gold against his russet coat. His eyes, emerald and glittering like gems in the late afternoon, squinted as he glanced over his shoulder. The day was a long one, primarily spent delivering a message on Provost Anola’s behalf to Edinburgh. He thought he might look for some Cedar bark to protect his books from insects, as well, now that spring was well on its way. But there hadn’t been time to do anything but think on his stroll through the sprawling, flat fields. For a Professor, that shouldn’t have been a concern. But even Arythmetik had to admit that his mind was flooded with unpleasant questions lately. He wanted distractions.


And one appeared amidst the shrubbery of Melrose—in the form of a lovely woman with striking, violet eyes. She almost reminded him of the Provost, in a way, but there was something sharp about her. He recalled a woman from the Ball whose aura held a similar intensity. But, remembering himself and realizing he must seem quite rude, Aryth bowed his head and smiled softly. “Excuse me,” he said warmly, “guid efternuin. Are you from Melrose?” The scholar was trying to be friendly; he thought it was important for a Professor to make a good impression on the denizens of Melrose. But he didn’t recognize this woman. And he didn’t notice what she was digging around in until after he’d initiated conversation.

code by claerie

@Rhiannon

A

nd there he was, as sure as the night falls, unafraid in his advance. The silver femme wondered to herself: Why do the males always feel entitled to approach a feminine stranger? The flame-kissed brute smiled, as his kind always did, speaking in a friendly manner as he came nearer, and Rhiannon stood motionless with her poisonous harvest at her dainty paws. He was handsome by the light of the sunset, but he would not fool Rhiannon. As the light of day was quickly fading into muted dusk, he was, first and foremost, a male. And from all of her experiences, Rhiannon presumed to know what was on his mind this evening.


He inquired whether she was from the local area, and though it was meant to be a sign of gregariousness from the amber-hued wolf, Rhiannon controlled her aggrieved expression, instead smiling pleasantly in return. What did it matter to him where she was from? Had he ill intent, with a plan to follow her to wherever it was that she called home? Her voice was low as she responded: ”I am from the Lowlands, but no, I am not from Melrose.”


She paused, swiftly filtering through the mental possibilities of how she could spin this interaction to her advantage. Firstly, would she offer any semblance of truth? She made up her mind then, and the answer was a resounding no: ”I am Siren,” she stated with a feigned smile of shyness and an appropriately matching bow of her head. She ventured to guess: ”Do you live here, with this beauty as your landscape?”


@Arythmetik

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

A R Y T H M E T I K

There was a pause, but not long enough to foster suspicion. Aryth’s pleasant smile widened at her response and he nodded, recognition gleaming in his gaze. The scholar was born and raised in the Arboretum, so every time he met a wolf from Melrose, he was surprised if he didn’t know them. It was a rare occurrence, to be fair. As they started to chat, the woman transformed before his very eyes. She seemed intense only moments before, but now she was gentle, demure. The scholar had no reason to find it strange...aside from the fact that she was digging around beneath bushes. Maybe she was just looking for something she’d stored there earlier. Maybe he was intruding.


If only he knew.


But she returned the question, offering her name to boot, so Arythmetik didn’t move. Siren, he thought, why does that sound familiar? He’d crossed the name in poetry, but didn’t think on it too long before gushing, “Ah, yes.” He glanced toward the horizon, already feeling in a better mood. This woman reminded him to be grateful of the little things. “I’ve lived in Melrose all my life. I suppose some might say I could do with a bit more excitement…” The scholar shrugged nonchalantly. “My name is Arythmetik, by the way. Pleasure to meet you.”

code by claerie

@Rhiannon

Every word, every syllable uttered by this stranger seemed only to confirm all of Rhiannon’s suspicions about his intent. He spoke of excitement and his desire to find it. Rhiannon controlled her expression expertly, hiding the revulsion welling within her. If he sought excitement, he may well find it with Rhiannon… just not in the way these males hoped for.


Still smiling pleasantly, she took in his strange name, one she was not likely to recall amongst the many faces and monikers of brutes who had been brazen enough to meet Rhiannon. He introduced himself, with pleasure, offering some unexpected moniker. Rhiannon smiled with feigned delight as she offered, ”I am a healer, seeking certain plants that only grow right here, in your lovely homelands.”


Her amethyst sights fell to the deadly nightshade. The male had not done enough to warrant the poison… But she was glad that the option remained. Her sights were alight as she gazed upon her harvest, with its tiny flowers that matched the violet hue of the woman’s eyes. ”This will be of great use to me in my work. It is beautiful, is it not?” Suspicious sights turned back to the male with a facade of innocence.

@Arythmetik

art & code by alexandre

A R Y T H M E T I K

It did occur to Aryth faintly, in the instinctual and subconscious way most creatures experience, that Siren was lovely. Lovely, if not restrained. He thought nothing of it, of course; he wasn’t interested, as he was too enamored with a certain cowboy from the outlands. But the woman’s delicate and violet-eyed facade did a considerable job eliminating mistrust. The scholar smiled naively at his new acquaintance, his eyes even brightening as she mentioned she was a healer. Maybe there was something she could teach him of the art, since she wasn’t from around here.


His excitement faded, however, the instant she revealed the purple blossom at her paws. Aryth’s smile receded into a humorless, thin line. His eyes, no longer shimmering, shifted knowingly to Siren’s smile. It seemed to mock him, now. He didn’t move, but in that moment, he wanted to back away. In a calm and genteel voice, the scholar mused slowly, “I find it hard to believe a healer would have any use for atropa belladonna.” He paused, emerald eyes flashing to meet her own. “Otherwise known as Deadly Nightshade.”

code by claerie

@Rhiannon XD

T

his male was not making any further moves, no flirtatious smiles beyond that which Rhiannon has already misinterpreted. If she had known his interest lies within his own gender, that would have changed things significantly. As it was, Rhiannon had not stopped watching the stranger closely. But as his expression faded, he stated, “I find it hard to believe a healer would have any use for atropa belladonna.” The woman’s smile remained, but twin eyebrows raised with newfound interest as the brute accurately identified the plant she had been collecting: “Otherwise known as Deadly Nightshade.”

”So you, too, are familiar with belladonna? It is lovely, is it not?” She suppressed her amusement. While she was impressed by his knowledge, Rhiannon was rather taken aback. Normally, fooling strangers came so easily. Not so with this one. ”Sometimes,” she offered casually, violet eyes fixed upon his facade to gauge his reaction, ”Sometimes, it is in the best interest of the ill and dying to be provided a little help on that direction. To reduce their suffering, you see?”


@Arythmetik

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

A R Y T H M E T I K

The woman’s eyebrows rose as if she’d anticipated a fool. At the very least, she didn’t recognize his scent as a member of the College. Trying (and perhaps failing) not to appear rude, Arythmetik took a casual step backward. “Sure,” he agreed suspiciously, though his voice was low and calm. “As all plants are beautiful, in their own way.” It was the same with wolves: all were lovely in their own fashion, but some were deadlier than others. Her next words cemented his suspicions. The she-wolf as much as admitted that she’d committed murder. Or if she was to be believed, assisted suicide. Aryth wasn’t sure her name was “Siren” anymore, either.


Clearing his throat, the russet gentleman said stiffly, “As long as the patients consent, I can see times where that would be…useful. Although belladonna isn’t typically a…permanent cure for pain.” It would have been a much keener and more effective method of assassination during the Ball. Now that Aryth thought about it, charging headlong at the King while he was surrounded by guards had always been doomed to fail, hadn’t it? The corners of the scholar’s mouth tugged downward in a tight frown. His brows furrowed and he glanced at the other’s violet gaze once more.


“I suppose I should leave you to it. Although if you prefer, I know how to make a valerian root tincture as a sedative. It could be a kinder way to ease patients who don’t want to resort to…” Aryth looked at the Deadly Nightshade pointedly. His comment was twofold. He was implying he was suspicious of her behavior without outright stating it. He was also revealing that he’d studied medicine, and he hoped she was honestly trying to help others. With a curt nod (and a moment to memorize her face), Aryth turned as if to leave.

code by claerie

@Rhiannon

Deep orbs of amethyst never wavered, fixed upon the other’s features with curious intent. The wariness now evident in the male’s posture, the way he took a step away from Rhiannon, seemed to amuse the enchantress. If she held any remorse for past misdeeds, her features showed no evidence of this – on the contrary, she looked almost pleased to have been caught in her mistruths. This was not something that often occurred, and though she did not say so, she was rather impressed with the long-named stranger.


He spoke again, cold as winter solstice: ”Although belladonna isn’t typically a…permanent cure for pain.” A knowing smile crossed her pale muzzle, almost playful in its appearance. ”On the contrary, dear sir, it is the most permanent cure.” She had no further use for this wolf, though the interaction had been rather surprising, as well as entertaining.


The male offered to teach her something she was already familiar with: ”It could be a kinder way to ease patients who don’t want to resort to…” As the brute’s voice trailed off, Rhiannon uttered a little laugh, as if the two had been discussing something as simple and innocuous as the weather. ”How very kind of you,” she countered, still smiling pleasantly. ”Well met, friend, well met, but I shall be off now.” As he turned away, Rhiannon carefully gathered the flowers, to save for an appropriate opportunity. Today was not that day.



/exit Rhiannon

@Arythmetik

art & code by alexandre

A R Y T H M E T I K

That smile froze Aryth in his tracks, transfixing his attention on the witch’s blatant admission. And then the laugh… It was a laugh that sent shivers down Arythmetik’s spine. Even though he was going to walk away, the male ended up holding his ground, afraid to turn his back on the creature with her Deadly Nightshade. He watched her leave first, disappearing into the sunset like a bad dream. It was easy to say that Aryth was afraid. If he met this woman in one of Castle Stuart’s dark alleys someday, he’d probably turn and bolt. But as a scholar, he couldn’t deny that there was something…fascinating about her. She was pushing boundaries, claiming to be a healer but hiding poison behind that false, delicate smile. He’d rather not think about what she did to her “patients.” Aryth shivered again and shook his head as if jolting himself from a stupor. Finally he hustled back home to the Arboretum, grateful for the safety of his den and Grigori nearby. But those amethyst eyes would linger in the back of his mind for some time.

Exit Aryth!

code by claerie

@Rhiannon FIN! >:)