Sweet Serial Killer | Catch All (Semi-Closed)

[necroprince]

Who: Ianthe Tridentarius + Assorted Others (Closed for now)
What: Ianthe arrives, moves into the worst house in the neighborhood, has catty necromancer talks with her worst pal, lives her best worst life.
When: December.
Where: Primarily Gaze.

Content Warnings: Misogynistic language, body horror, cannibalism, necromancy, Ianthe Tridentarius, codependent relationships.

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The Worst Person You Know | Palamedes

[necroprince]

[Ianthe makes her way to Palamedes' office about an hour after their conversation. It's not too far from The Emperor's little goth house, and she does rather want to learn more.

She doesn't knock, she only opens the door wordlessly and begins walking around until she can find the Sixth Necromancer.]

[megatheorem]

[The Sanctuary is open to visitors and endlessly cozy and welcoming, which Palamedes hopes Ianthe super loves even before she inevitably arrives. His own office is off the big courtyard with the Healing Tree in it, and behind the worm-on-a-string curtain, for the peak contradictory vibes.

So he's ultimately not hard to find, as he is mucking around in the office and the hallway just outside it when Ianthe turns up. He is straightening the worm curtain. The only thing to indicate the passage-slash-disparity of time besides inhabiting his own (squid) body is that he wears colors now, but mostly like, four gray-blue cardigans at once. Hi, Ianthe.]

—Oh, you're here. Love the arm.

[maybe true]

[necroprince]

[She hates it, obviously, but she hates everything in Trench except the grotesque body horror and the miserable weather. This place is just a unique concentration of all those friendly neighborly aspects amped way up. She's a little curious about what they're doing admittedly, her first guess is 'cult.']

Harry's work. Marvelous, isn't it? [She flexes the skeletal fingers, then turns to him.] You've become quite domesticated, I see. Cardigans?

[She doesn't sound deeply surprised, though. She just drops down on one of the chairs in his office and kicks her feet up.]

What's the last thing you remember from home, Sextus?

[megatheorem]

Ah, [he says, in the tone of the academic, which here means "ah" translates roughly to "of course it would be, such fine handiwork-pardon-the-pun is only natural for the most highly talented bone adepts." It's very clear.

As for his cardigans, as he steps away from his worm curtain to move to sit behind the desk,] Well, it's been a year. I even own some things in yellow these days.

[Not present because he's still not too sure about yellow, conceptually. But: to business.]

I was in the River. I don't know if anyone ever told you about that; it was after the Lyctor incident at Canaan House. I'd been there for about eight months, or so I'm told.

After that, I washed up here. This is the first time I'm hearing proper news about Camilla since she left here herself almost a year ago, now.

[necroprince]

[She wrinkles her nose up at the idea of him - really, any necromancer except maybe Abigail Pent - wearing yellow. She's not even a goth, she wears white and purple and pink, but dear god.

Still, there's more important things to discuss. She raises her eyebrows in a muted expression of surprise and interest. She knows that somehow Palamedes managed to survive the explosion, and that somehow he managed to live on in Camilla's body. The River however, is something new.]

Nobody told me, no. Your survival was a fun little surprise to me. You were living away from the Empire, on one of the Blood of Eden planets.

How did you survive the River?

[megatheorem]

[Worse: they are goofy yellow rainboots, and he wears them when it's not even raining. As a Sixth weirdo, he's excused from having to give a shit about "looks good" and "makes sense to wear." Which is all to say that her nose wrinkle gives him an iota of satisfaction, while petty, and he cherishes it.

Blood of Eden planet surprises him only somewhat; to that he nods and says,] Sure; break clause.

[You know, Break Clause, the thing everybody knew about and nobody from the Empire was unfortunately blindsided by. That the Sixth - he assumes, because he and Cam would not just leave them behind - have break clause'd out of reach is a buoying thing; he feels a fraction better about one of the many crushing unknowns of what's gone on back there.]

In the River— I set up a contingency plan for everything going tits up at Canaan House, which, well. We were all there. You can call it a bubble, although it was more of an anchor point for a soul. Mine. Camilla would have been following my instructions to get me out of there.

[That was a small eon ago; it's fine to share it.]

Do you know what's happened to my family?