d'Artagnan

the

NightShade

His son looked very much like his mother, so much so that d’Artagnan often wondered if his bitterness towards his son stemmed from the resemblance and reminded him of his weakness. The Nightshade had always thought, that if she wanted, the hag of the night could surely command him with the click of her tongue and it made him sick. He watched Mesec approach; the former Doctor’s gaze was unreadable just like his own emotions were indescribable. With the disintegration of the Plague, the splintering of old friends and the loss of Kou, d’Artagnan had been left with little to care for… Except perhaps this child (and the rest). This child who struck him with guilt and misgiving because, in truth, d’Artagnan too did not know where he stood with his own son and it hit him with unexpected pain. Had he grown fragile? Or perhaps had his madness hidden that fragility all along. In his ferociously driven need to run away from every problem, he had created his own monster to hide the cowering child that he once was from long ago and now he couldn’t stop it. He dropped his gaze from Mesec to the floor, frowning at the ground as if it held all the answers and one was going to jump up and smack him in the face. 

It took a moment, but he eventually raised his head slowly and tried to meet Mesec’s gaze as he spoke.

The Dragons Throat? Wasn’t that where Sacre was? The place that had taken him prisoner many seasons ago was now a haven for his own blood, how ironic.

"No… Thanks to you" it was odd and awkward, they had never had much of a relationship so finding the words to answer questions was much harder than usual. Yet, his tone was sincere for once even though he almost cringed away from saying it. "Those others helping you, are they like you?" Half God.

His attention turned to the creature on his back, a gift from mother; d’Artagnan never knew she did gifts. Apart from evening visits to unsuspecting stallions.

It was a Zephyr, the shade had seen them before, but this one looked fitting. Very Mesec. A bird of the night and iridescent, much like the moon.  These were often bonded creatures like his own hellion and born to live alongside their chosen four-legged friend. 

In the meantime, Aramis had become a little more curious, inching closer to Mesec and Lucius, with glittering eyes and an interested nose.

"Don’t, idiot." d’Artagnan grumbled down their mental bond.

"I was just admiring" Aramis returned the grumbling, licking his lips before sitting back onto his haunches in a disgruntled manner as the General sighed. Mesec returned his wings to their higher position and the Hellhound looked on in regret. "Scrawny thing" the Nightshade commented on impulse before checking himself with sudden after thought "he looks like you" wait no. That wasn’t quite what he meant "I mean, like the moon and the night, you both- ah" never mind. d’Artagnan shook his head as Aramis shot him a side glance "that was woeful" he commented dryly "I’d stick to being a shit father" the hellion concluded much to the Nightshade’s displeasure.

It was moments like this that d’Artagnan needed Kou.

Swiftly, he moved on.

Family? Basin? If only Mesec knew the full extent. Maybe he did but was playing dumb. Yet, it was a hard story to re-tell for the red stallion. "Apparently we helped invade the Hidden Falls. I wasn’t involved, it’s said the battle was a short one and we didn’t really gain much from it" the shade shrugged, not really agreeing with the pointless march down the mountain. "Those in the Worlds Edge wanted to flee from your mother" he didn’t blame them really, though d’Artagnan wasn’t all that concerned about her murdering tendency. Not with his own track record. Poor Mesec, born to two murderous parents.

"Aviya still lingers around here somewhere, I think, though the rest…" he paused. The painful bit was next. "Kou died" he uttered, trying his best to control the hurt that the words brought him. It felt wrong to say it out loud and it dredged up unwanted memories of her bloodied body strewn across the floor. "You have a new half sister, Ráeru" his lips managed a small smile "she looks just like Kou, if you see her, you’ll probably recognize her" he shrugged again. The filly was the perfect blend of the former Doctor and the once Nurse, but with her birth came death and d’Artagnan found it difficult to linger on her for long.

"Have you not seen your half brother? He lives in the Throat too" perhaps Mesec didn’t know. The Demi-God was the oldest of five siblings and left at a young age. He wasn’t even sure Sacre knew as d’Artagnans relationship with his kids was that vague he couldn’t even remember if he told him or not.

Without Kou, d’Artagnan was long lost at sea.

[ooc: sorry its a bit disjointed D: and uber late. -wails-]

Poison is in everything, and no thing is without poison. The dosage makes it either a poison or a remedy.