AU Box

[lovesuwithknives]

Because I can't leave that Abstract Button alone, here's a bunch of AUs that roll about in my head that I figured I'd plop in here to see if anyone wants to bat them about.

Warnings apply for pretty much everything: smut, body horror, violence, nonconsensual science, cosmic horror, pregnancy, gender-switching, and probably more.


Wizarding AU
or
Harry Potter And The Contrived Fanfiction Plot

Is it Marauders-Era and you not only have to deal with them but this weirdo new Defence Against The Dark Arts instructor? Or, even worse, is this during the books and you have to deal with all of that plus this weirdo new Defence Against The Dark Arts instructor? What on earth was Dumbledore thinking? This man looks like he just crawled out from under the floorboards of Voldemort's own goddamn house. He makes Snape look trustworthy. But boy does he know his stuff. And all kinds of other stuff. So what's Professor Azwel really about?


Cthulhu Mythos AU
or
The Call Of The Thing On The Living Room Floor Of The Witch-House Of The Terrible Old Man With The Silver Key To The Challenge From Beyond The Wall Of AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Terrible things are afoot in New England in the 1920s. Fish-people and cultists and schlubs having horrible dreams are everywhere. Things are colours that don't exist. A squiggly symbol that scares the bejeezus out of you is scrawled on random surfaces. And what's that awful tekeli-li sound that rides the wind of an evening? What are those faceless flying creatures silhouetted against the moon? AND WHY IS AN EIGHT-FOOT-TALL BUG MAN THING CLAIMING HE'S RANDOLPH CARTER? Nobody knows except a strange mystic from Europe who calls himself only 'Azwel' and seems to know an awful lot about and awful lot of things. Things man (or woman or bug) was not meant to know! Do you follow him to the hilltops or into the cypress swamps or wherever else he says the horrible tomes direct him or do you do the smart thing and run screaming into the night, trailing As as you go?


Domestic Fluff
or
How I Married A Mad Alchemist

Ah, wedded bliss. Family life and home sweet home. Is there anything like it? Probably not. You are Mr. Or Mrs. Azwel. His first name is a secret he just might someday tell you. In the meantime, you now live in a big sprawling house with either three or seventeen cats (never any other number), a plethora of alchemical paraphernalia, and a husband whom you have to tempt out of the lab to eat. But he's wealthy. And he loves you more than anything. He just... has a very unconventional way of showing it.


Sex Slave
or
Fuggit, I'm Running Out Of Titles.

a Did you get bought from the sex slave market by this odd, mysterious nobleman who only goes by one name? How will this 'Lord Azwel' even treat you? Only one way to find out, as he's bringing you home to his mansion full of books and alchemy. Oh, my.

b You're looking for that special sex slave. Well, this fellow is certainly eye-catching, all big and manly, windswept and interesting. Watch out, though, the owner says he's a bit mad, too clever by three quarters, and was sold to him as punishment for some crime nobody will disclose.


Experiments? Oh My!
It can be any time, really, the aim is the same. This strange genius who calls himself only 'Azwel' has you locked up in his laboratory. He has a mission, you see, and that mission is to extract a very, very specific kind of energy from you. It can only be collected during orgasm. Oh, but he's terribly clever at getting people to that state....


Vampire AU
a Blaaaaaa! A mysterious alchemist who never goes out in the daytime has moved into that spooky castle. And at the same time there's tell of a mysterious fiend roaming the streets at night, ravishing nubile young maidens and... whatever the young gentleman equivalent may be... and draining their blood! Can anyone draw the obvious conclusion between these nocturnal shenanigans and that weird Count Azwel?

b You vampire, you! You've somehow gone and caught yourself a nosy alchemist who insists on being called only 'Azwel.' His fault for trying to investigate your castle/house/apartment/yurt/whatever, I suppose. Now what will you do with him? My, but he's a robust-looking fellow who'll certainly serve as a ready food supply....


Girl Genius AU
Explosions! Terrible mad science! Toothy monsters with cheesy accents! Giant switches actually labelled 'MUAH HA HA HA HA HA!' Gleeful destruction! Exclamation marks! Just what have you gotten yourself into walking into the midst of Mechanicsburg in a random era ruled by Azwel Heterodyne The Madder Than Usual?

Pet Person AU
a Who doesn't like a big fluffy kitty? A... really big, fluffy kitty. Even though he prefers to wear clothes, one can see just how fluffy Azwel is by his purple hair and beard, soft grey ears with purple tufts, and giant, fluffy purple and grey tail. Oh, but he'd make a lovely companion, if you can get him to stop chewing on you. His love is pointy, after all. His claws are so long they don't retract all the way, making him even pointier. But he's clever and just listen to that rumbling purr!

Oh, and one other thing. There's a very good chance he'll be in heat. And even if he's not, he's still very libidinous. Sorry about that.

b Are you the kind of pet person Azwel's looking for? He's after someone who can assist in his work and not push things off of shelves or knock things over with a wagging tail. A companion to curl up with on cold nights. A sexual partner. Is it you?

Sex Cult AU
There's a heady smoke in the air, a mist swirling grey-white under the full moon. A hypnotic drumbeat plays. Cloaked and hooded figures surround you, bear you along to the stone altar under the tall trees. They start a slow, circling dance and a low, sonorous chant slips into your hearing. At the altar stands another figure, clad in elabourate robes. He reaches up with beringed hands to remove his hood, revealing his face, long purple hair and beard surrounding pale features and a gaze that draws you in. He bids you step toward him. The ritual has begun.


As an added bonus, request Rule 63 of any of the above and hey, presto, Azwel was always a woman!


Got any other ideas? Feel free to throw them at me. ^.^

Comments

LAB FUNTIMES

[seasoflight]

Felih is... dizzy, when he comes to. He's light-headed, and aware that he's lying on something cushioned... a bed? But he didn't remember getting to the inn...

It's when he tries to move that he realizes he's bound, and his eyes open as his hands jerk, suddenly alarmed and trying to free himself- but regardless of how he squirms and fusses, he can't free himself from the bindings on him.

"What... what is this?" he asks, finding himself completely bared and exposed. Every last inch of dark skin, the soft trails of red downy fur, the soft length of his barbed cock resting atop the plump and impressive swell of his balls, which in turn hides the sensitive folds between his legs. "Seven hells...!" he hisses quietly, looking around, tail lashing and bristling in his confusion as he looks about.

These machines- this table! Where is this...?

[lovesuwithknives]

The room is almost disturbingly clean, a faint antiseptic scent on the air that someone has tried to cover with incense. Candles flicker in sconces on the walls but don't function as the main source of light--oh, no, the majority of the light comes from a hypercomplex array of crystals and mirrors that extend down from the ceiling like a chandelier designed by a man with seven eyes, none of which face the same direction. It catches the light from outside and magnifies it until it's as bright as a sunny day at noon inside this room.

And yet that isn't the end of the contrivances of metal and glass and crystal. Another array surrounds the cushioned table, curling its spider-legs of esoteric magitech around it in a faintly unnerving display of magick and science and art. It'd be pretty if its provenance weren't so... tauntingly vague.

If that isn't enough, the door opens in the darkly panelled wall and in walks a man who matches a description Felih had likely heard in various locales. The long purple hair, braided beard, and ritual scars are unmistakable. This is none other than the individual somewhat ludicrously dubbed 'The Sex Alchemist.'

Well, at least he's not ugly.

A slight smile crosses his face as he approaches the table. "Oh, but they've brought a lovely one, this time," he says, his cultured tenor voice at odds with his large and intimidating appearance.

Nothing says fun like trauma and experimentation!

[goldenglasses]

Vash was hardly aware what was happening. Suddenly pounced on by the LIES staff on his way to work. He didn't understand he hadn't missed his quota.

They put a collar around his neck. Damping and keeping him from using some of his abilities, but not damping all of his powers. His head is pounding and he can only pick up bits and pieces of the conversation and where they're dragging him off to. Something about... needing samples and further studies... his Plant abilities.

"No..." He mutters weakly and starts to struggle against the strong hands holding him still. Awareness starting to slowly come back. Fear slowly sinking in.

Luckily the staff knew a scientist who could get the job they wanted done. A little tweaking of the man's mind was all that was needed to get him to agree. Of course they hadn't exactly mentioned who the test subject would be until they dragged him in.

"Where do you want Subject 01-V?" They would help to secure Vash and then they'd trust Azwel to properly do his job. "Quick. He's starting to come around."

[lovesuwithknives]

A familiar voice replies, if somewhat vaguely. "Who? Put him... put him on the table. No, the one I prepared."

When they secure Vash by his wrists and ankles to the strangely cushioned table--almost more like a bed--they step aside and the two are afforded a good look at each other. And Azwel doesn't appear to be any more willing than Vash is, if the device round his head is any indication. A lead extends from it, pressing itself into the skin of his forehead and anchored by tiny wires so that it appears to cling like a metallic spider. A small green light winks slowly on the device.

"We'll leave you to it, then," the lead staffer says. "Report your progress within three hours." With that they file out.

There's a pause. Azwel steps forward to look at his subject and it's as though there's no recognition. His face is blank. His eyes are blank. And yet he reaches out with steady hands to move a strange, almost insectile array of lights and sensors, clicking its many spindly arms into place.

AU vampire/Domestic fluff

[nightroadsaint]

Lady Abel was a traveling nurse. She left nursing school to travel for vacation. She is always on the go, traveling through the rural countryside going from village to village by train to see the sights and sounds of each city that she visits.

A bright-eyed young woman in her mid-twenties, a slender figure with gentle curves, tall, bespectacled, and braided her long silver hair neatly in plaits all tied with black ribbons. When the train came to the city where Azwel lives, Abel checked into the hotel and went hiking and strolling through the countryside of the village while taking pictures of the surrounding farms and the farm animals grazing on the hillside while keeping a journal of her travels.

She only noticed the castle, when she comes close to the property but was told by the locals it was abandoned though recently a wealthy if not eccentric man moved in. She took a picture of the castle and never thought about it, thinking the castle is old and gothic looking like the castles she has seen in medieval movies. She explored the surrounding property where she noticed the courtyard and garden and then took pictures of the flowers, especially a briar rose bush with roses so red, though she would like to get closer to take a better picture.

Though she thinks the castle does look empty judging by the dark windows. When the sun is setting and becomes orange, becoming night, that was her cue to leave the castle grounds to return back to her room at the hotel.

However, she didn't leave right away, as she plays with a few of the cats that wandered around on the property, meowing at Abel curiosity.

[lovesuwithknives]

The cats are very friendly, it seems, trilling and meowing, rubbing heads and faces against her hands. Some would run off to do cat things and come back, others would loaf nearby, watching with half-closed eyes.

As darkness falls the cats become more active and alert, occasionally staring at something one couldn't see or at the castle before darting off into the shadows. Soon a light can be seen in one of the high windows. The light recedes further inside and can be seen travelling down a staircase, descending slowly past more windows. Eventually it reappears, gently illuminating a sitting room.

A small black cat purrs and trills around Abel's ankles.

Sex Slave vampire?

[singinghuntress]

That night the auctions had a very special item for sale that drew in quite the varied crowd to the slave auctions. Tonight, they were selling something rare and dangerous to anyone that dared to take the risk..

They had a young female vampire for sale. The fact that they were able to capture such a rare and vicious beauty was enough to fill the auction house to overflowing. Rip hated it. She was paraded on stage, naked and bound in heavy silver chains and gagged. There were angry red welts where the sliver touched her but, that did little to distract people from her pale ethereal beauty under the spotlight. Even her long raven hair seemed to be other worldly under the light.

As the bidding started, she struggled against her chains, trying to get free...

And before she realized it, the bidding had closed with the auctioneer declaring her sold to some Lord. Rip froze as she was carried off and deposited in the holding cells, waiting for pick up by her new Master..

Whoever just bought her would have their hands full with Rip.

[lovesuwithknives]

An uncounted span of time passes before the door is opened. The owner walks in, as greasy and hand-wringingly obsequious as always, followed by a large, saturnine-looking man in elabourate robes that mark him as some kind of occultist.

"In here, Lord Azwel," the owner simpers. "You must be very powerful indeed, to take on this one. She killed two of my guards, you know."

"Yes, I know," the other answers, his cultured tenor voice, strangely at odds with his large and intimidating appearance, laced with strained patience. "You mentioned it before. Repeatedly."

"Yes, of course, Lord Azwel. My apologies."

They arrive at the door and, in better light, the lines of ritual scarring can be seen on this 'Lord Azwel's face. His long, dark hair and beard turn out a deep shade of purple. The robes are embellished with golden jewellery, a golden circlet sits in his hair, and elabourate golden gauntlets cover his hands.

"The greatest of precautions have been taken with this one, my Lord, as you can see by the silver manacles--" He breaks off as Lord Azwel steps forward, looming over him.

"Open the door. And hand her over. Do not test test my patience further."

The small, weaselly man quickly produces keys and opens the door, swinging it wide so that his customer can step into the cell.

Sex slave/Girl Genius AU

[vlad_the_impaler]

Vlad travels all over Europe and the world in search for knowledge, any knowledge from science to the occult that caught his intellectual interests. Enlightenment is his quest. His usual method of travel is either on foot or by train or by sea. Whatever suit his wanderlust fancy, he becomes a true wanderer among mankind after he left his castle behind for his journey after being a hermit shut-in for years.

He is dressed casually like a gentleman. Top-hat, classy suit, a cravet, gloves, and holding a cane in one hand while blending in with the humans. Followed after him is a pair of his faithful familiar hunting hounds, Baskerville and Cerebus to accompany him for his travels.

One evening, in a remote village where the lawless roam free, where he was staying in an inn closeby, there was an open slave auction. Slavery still exists in illegal rings to this day and humans are being sold as merchandise in the market for domestic servitude or even sex slaves.

The bidding started as the seller was yelling out the prices for the slaves on the stage. Most of them wear thread-bare clothes, in iron chained shackles around the neck, ankles, and wrists and thin from not being fed properly during their captivity. Nothing unusual, it was only business. Vlad was about to take his leave from the square and hit the market to get meat for his hounds to eat.

The only thing that caught his eye about her is her beauty and her eyes. She was described as a clever scientist and alchemist, but for what crime she committed, it won't be disclosed other than slavery and domestic severity is her sentence to pay back a debt to society.

The moment their eyes met, though Vlad wears a pair of sunglasses, the color of sunset to hide to his red eyes, Vlad made a decision. He spoke to the seller, paid for the price in full, and the alchemist beauty was handed over to the dark gentleman after he sign the papers to confirm the deed that Azwel is indeed Vlad's legal property.

"Hello." He spoke gently, his voice is deep and baritone with a heavy accent. "What is your name?"

[lovesuwithknives]

Her worn, threadbare clothing shows a lot more of her figure than would usually be considered 'ladylike,' but she doesn't seem to mind the pale flesh of her legs or the curve of her hips or so much of her milky-white breasts on display. She's more discomfited by the red welts left by the shackles and will frown at them from time to time.

Her eyes, large and golden, peer cannily out at the world from behind locks of deep purple hair, holding none of the dull, defeated look of so many others on the selling block. When she is brought out to Vlad, she walks tall and proud, defiant despite the owner's savage yanks on the chains.

"Please do be careful, sir," the owner simpers, quickly handing over the chains as though suspecting she'll flee or attack. "She is rather dangerous." She just grins an evil grin at him.

At the question she tosses her hair back and looks up at Vlad. "Surely that's on the paperwork," she says, her voice strong and cultured, evidence of an aristocratic upbringing that only deepens the mystery around her. But, she reconsiders, maybe a haughty tone wouldn't serve her too well in this case, so she continues a little more gently, her tone softening. "But since you ask, it's Azwel."

Because Vash always needed a giant kitty, right?

[lovesuwithknives]

Night on a desert planet is very cold. There's nothing around to trap heat. Usually that's not much of a concern for most folks, even the occasional pet people who end up there. If nothing else, they have plenty of fur to keep them warm.

It doesn't seem to be doing this fellow any good, though. As fluffy as he is, he's still shivering, slowly making his way down the street. His arms and even his tail are wrapped around himself and his ears are pushed down low into his hair. He's even wearing warm clothing, but is still shivering. In this manner he shuffles down the street, slower and slower, until he stops. Leans against a wall. Stays there, panting slightly.

When he hears someone coming he looks up with large, bleary golden eyes. Oh. He should ask this man for help. He should say something. He takes a breath.

No sound comes out and, furthermore, he can feel his legs buckling. Well, isn't this embarrassing....

Who doesn't!

[goldenglasses]

Lucky for the creature the man is willing to help. Or, not so much willing to help as to take advantage. "Uh oh. I think someone's been out in the sun too long." A big burly man roughly grabs Azwel's chin. "I don't see a collar on you. I think I should take you home and make you mine." He says this with a wicked grin as he squeezes Azwel's jaw with the intent to hurt.

And it seems like Azwel's luck has gotten even worse as a lean, wispy looking man that is all arms and legs stumbles forward. Only instead of circling Azwel and joining the man he stumbles into him in a way that causes the man to let go of Azwel's chin. "Hey! Hey buddy! Do you think you could lend a guy a couple double dollars?" This drunken idiot seems to put himself between the first man and Azwel.

"Fuck off you drunk! I'm busy!"

The stranger clad in red tilts his head back to Azwel. "Huh, getting this guy to a place to rest, right?" Vash gives the catman a smile. "Do you even want to go with him?"

"HEY!"

you know what, sex slave [a] because fuck it

[whatsina_name]

Well this is... weird. Phillip glances around his new 'home' (assuming he'll ever even get to see this part of the house again) as he follows Azwel in. He's been in more homes of the well to do than he would like, and while he's very used to seeing bizarre levels of finery... alchemy is a new one.

Suddenly, he's really hope sex is the only thing Azwel bought him for.

He's quiet for the moment (though Azwel probably knows that's not standard for him; he was very mouthy at the stand), just taking it all in and trying to piece together as much about his new 'master' as possible from his home. ...Though given how much the man talks, he might not need to use those tactics to figure him out.

[lovesuwithknives]

Oh, good lord does this man talk. He'd been nattering about this and that the entire way back to his home, which turns out to be that large manor house the locals occasionally talk about in not so much hushed whispers as baffled shouts of 'what, again?!'

"I must say, it's good to get out even just for a few hours--nothing like one's own home closing in on one to make one appreciate the fact that the rest of the world is still out there, eh?...."

Clearly one of the ways Phillip is meant to serve him is to listen to him rabbit on about whatever crosses his mind. And a lot of things cross his mind, as he's got one of those brains that runs on all cylinders or none, no inbetween, somehow maintaining half a dozen trains of thought without them crashing into one another and spilling toxic word radiation all over the mental landscape and killing all the brain cows.

"...My family have lived in this same house for the last ten generations, which is saying something considering how much we all love to travel. My grandparents and great-grandmother came home after three months abroad to find people clearing the place out because they thought they were all dead. Turns out granddad had forgotten to let anyone know they were leaving beforehand...."

The house, on the other hand, is a stoic and quiet contrivance of stone and mortar and glass and whatnot, as though it had developed a literal facade of massive indifference as a defence against having to have people like Azwel live in it. The stone is grey, the windows large but unrevealing, and the grounds around it deliberately engineered to be calming. Lilac trees abound around the house, sheltering it. Whoever does the groundskeeping has mastered the art of manufactured lack of object permanency, as it almost looks as though there isn't anything beyond the house unless one peers between the trees to see the gardens and forest beyond.

"...Needless to say, my grandfather Erich got very particular about communication after that--someone had accidentally broken his favourite washing bowl statuette during this cleanout and, of course, the man who'd sculpted it had been dead for a century. Now we have to let at least seven people outside of the house know if any of us are going to leave the country...."

But if the outside of the house is the picture of desperate attempts at something calming, the interior is... well, let's just say one's living space really is a reflection of one's personality. And this is evident even in the foyer, a spacious room with several doors and rather a lot of paintings hung on the walls, a curious giant urn bristling with umbrellas and parasols, and a massive round skylight.

"...Granted, I don't do a lot of travelling right now. I have rather a lot of things I'm working on and if I left now I daresay something or other would explode or boil over or fill the house with carnivorous plants!"

Further inside the house the 'heavily decorated' theme continues, with paintings and statues and towering bookshelves where bookshelves usually aren't found, such as in the hallways. But what's most interesting is the clever network of mirrors and lenses that cluster around sconces that hold small glowing orbs instead of candles. The way the mirrors and lenses are connected to one another on rods with gears and pulleys suggests they can be repositioned to shift the light.

"...Well, maybe not the plants...."

Finally Azwel stops walking and, more importantly, stops speaking, and pauses to regard a curious little knob set into the wall and connected to some of the abovementioned rods.

[wildphase]

Felicity doesn't really have a problem with the marriage. She's always known she was going to be expected to marry for status and money and not for love. She's the oldest daughter in a wealthy family with important connections that span centuries, the kind of power and influence that doesn't always come with land and titles, but gets spoken of by those who have both. She's grown up pawn and player both and at least her father's choice for her isn't repulsive.

But what he is, if she's honest, is too unpredictably attentive. She'd always presumed that she would marry some brutish man who would want to fuck her for some combination of pleasure and heirs and had, in preparation, become adept at conjuring the former and studiously preventing the latter, but who would mostly not care for her otherwise.

Azwell is... none of those things, really. Certainly, he seems to appreciate her sexual education well enough, and she has no complaints in that department of him but he's unpredictable. When he's working on something, she can spend days alone on end, tending to her own affairs, but when he decides he's done down in his laboratory, he actually cares about her, what she's doing, where she's going or who she's with. If it were just controlling, she could work around it, but he seems to really care and she's not totally heartless. She doesn't want to be shrewish to someone who's actually kind to her. But he needs a distraction, something to keep his attention when he comes up for air that will keep him if not disinterested in her, at least splitting his attention.

And it just so happens that she has a dear little brother who also just so happens to have a penchant for the alchemical and magical and who also has just gotten into some kind of scandal back at his fancy pants wizard school or whatever it was that he was doing.

"My brother's been expelled from University," she says over dinner one of the evenings where Azwel has come up from the laboratory, "I was thinking he could come and stay with us for a while while Mother and Father sort things out with the Dean." She's not really asking, though she does keep her tone mild enough. She'll give him a chance to agree on his own before she bargains for it.

"I think you might like him," she's betting he'll more than like him, "He's been studying magic."

Carden knows what she's like, knows that there will be some kind of scheme, if she's sending word that he can come stay, but surely it's a choice he'd make over going home to his parents. Azwel is, as usual, the unpredictable card on the table.

[lovesuwithknives]

This unpredictability is clearly a family trait, as any member of the house's small staff would attest, as they apparently have all lived and worked in this house for longer than anyone can remember. It's why his only surviving sibling, his sister, Elena, took off one day for parts unknown, only thinking to write home and let everyone know about it after the fact. They're used to sometimes preparing meals and other times fleeing the kitchen; to preparing the place for guests at a moment's notice; to midnight supply runs and impromptu furniture moving and bouts of 'I can't believe I forgot to plant these!' But none of them, from the cook to the housekeeper to the gardener, have ever voiced any inclination to leave, and for much the same reason that Felicity herself has encountered. The whole family, down to Azwel himself and the innumerable cats, care more than is typical or, indeed, is proper for a family of such standing.

So everyone weathers the eccentricities and is thankful there are no children about right now to make things even more chaotic.

Then again, her family might have words for the both of them, seeing as how they've been married for this long and there's not even a hint of anything resembling children forthcoming. It doesn't seem at all a priority for him--he hasn't breathed a word about it. That alone is significant, given his tendency to wax voluble about just about anything else.

Except at mealtimes, that is. Strangely, whenever they take a meal together he is content not to lead the conversation, instead listening happily to whatever she has to say, as though eager for someone else's thoughts to fill his head instead of his own.

So when she brings this up he pauses, then grins an amused grin. "Oh? Dare I ask what happened?"

woo, timeskip

[lovesuwithknives]

The most surprising thing about the time that's gone by (besides its doing so in the first place--temporal physics is on the list but Azwel hasn't got there yet,) isn't so much that the house is still standing. It has weathered far more volatile of populations than this, after all. Rather, the surprising thing is that this unorthodox arrangement has gone on for as long as it's done as quietly as it's done.

A large part of it, of course, is that such things don't often come up in everyday conversations. Not a lot of places to put By the way I've been sleeping with my wife's brother in discussions of, say, finances. While discretion might not be the better part of valour for Azwel, it is, on occasion, useful. A lie of omission is scarcely a lie, at all.

More to the point, though, they all get on surprisingly well, mainly because the house is large enough that any given person can go for days without seeing anyone else save for the occasional housekeeper. Mind you, Azwel doesn't. But he could.

Even before Carden had shown up, he spent a great deal of time in the laboratory. Now that he's got company, of course, it's considered something akin to a rare bird sighting when anyone spots him elsewhere--the Greater Purple-Crested Cackulax outside its natural habitat. People with binoculars and pith helmets and serious expressions have noted it in little spiralbound books.

Very few people ask what's going on in the lab. They've learnt not to over generations of Azwel's family. Not because of any punishment, you see, but because the answers just aren't worth the possible aneurysms that might result from trying to process them. And so it is that nobody but Azwel and Carden know about the latest foray into the study of animal magnetism (after the previous experimentation left Azwel covered in hamsters stuck to him like plastic letters on a refrigerator)--namely the distillation of traits.

Don't ask how traits can be distilled. Azwel can render a sandwich to its constituent liquids and still make it taste like ham on rye. With onions. And a smidge of mustard.

Perhaps he shouldn't have left this latest one next to the Essence Of Cheeseburger....

Carden's post-Duplicity hunt

[lovesuwithknives]

It will not at all be difficult to find Azwel--just head in the direction of the giant swirling... thing of blue and red and purple light. It's on the corner of First and... you know what, you'll see it.

Getting there will be interesting, seeing as one will have to avoid not only the people shuffling about like zombies and leaking light from every orifice and killing everything that crosses their path but also the crazies in the anachronistic-looking uniforms who are hunting down either Azwel or someone called 'The Conduit.'

Fights break out. A lot. It gets to the point where one could assume it's just how people say hello in this world.

Eventually, once the huge dimensional singularity is reached, it's also very easy to find Azwel. Tracking Palindrome's aetheric signature is like tracking down a rock concert. And even without being able to do that, it's where the knock-down drag-out fight is occurring against some woman in armour who would be unremarkable save for the stonking huge blue sword she's wielding. Yes, that blue sword.

Re: Carden's post-Duplicity hunt

[wildphase]

It's taken him a while to manage to do this. Carden hasn't aged enough to really be much visibly older, but travelling between worlds takes a level of power and finesse that doesn't happen overnight. Still, it's been a singular focus for a while now, after Phillip has found him and jogged his own memories, to track down the people who have mattered to him the most and, hopefully, save them.

Carden has understood for some time now both that the world Azwel and Ivy come from is pretty fucked all told and also that, while he's not sure precisely to what degree or why, exactly, that Azwel isn't really one of the "good guys" here. Still, the level of destruction and the power and chaos warring around him is intense, surprising, and he loses some time to just being buffeted around for a bit by hiding from this group or outrunning this one before he remembers he can phase through matter and just beats a path straight towards Azwel's presumed location.

It's clear the fight has been going on for a while and he has a wicked feeling of deja-vu, when he finally reaches the epicenter. The fight hasn't gone against Azwel this time so much as he makes it a second too late to assist in a fight, catches up just as an opening is finally found after a long fight and the woman draws back the blade with the perfect timing to skewer Azwell straight through the heart.

Well. Or would have. It's hard to do that when you don't have a sword, which she suddenly doesn't as it's ripped from her hands and flung god knows where. He knows that sword, can feel the resonance of it even if he's not connected to it like someone native to this world might be. But he can't just kill it's wielder, either. Spray them with a firehose of water that will knock them back and away and give them a reason to maybe go find that sword, however? Definitely. Hopefully, that will buy him the time he needs.

"Are you alright?" he's dressed in something loose fitting, appropriate for the current world and era, and in a dark grey, almost black. He's also an average-sized person in a world where everyone important seems to be larger than life in some way, which makes him look smaller than he is, "I'm sure she'll be back soon enough. We'd might better run."

He has no idea if Azwel is going to remember him or not, so he keeps his words reasonable either way, resists the urge to check him for wounds, to touch.

Experiments!

[kuroi_taiyo]

The time of constant wars being waged, with big explosive battles, had eased. Now people were turning towards magic and scientific advancements and innovations to keep up with the rest of the world. While the Kou kingdom had their specialties, they were largely a war nation before this shift in the narrative. So, they sought out those considered geniuses in fields rarely ventured into, or more difficult to keep control over.

They discovered Azwel, wanting to ways to extract energy, and they had someone who technically could have access to infinite energy. It might not be necessary, but it could lead to interesting discoveries. That, and their magi was more suited to war, as they had raised him, and he wasn't doing much for their benefit these days. And to keep from being too dangerous, the wand he used to utilize any magic was locked up while in shipment. As long as he didn't have a foci, there wasn't much he could actively do.

So he was sent over, already set to sleep long enough for the transport and whatever preparations needed to be made on Azwel's part. All they wanted back was any unique discoveries, if any, and occasionally being sent a portion of whatever energy was collected. In fact, they've given a little tool for the man to have some options; A collar that could change the wearer's body to a different form, opposite to what their original sex was. Something to keep, just as a bonus. Especially when they knew that Judar could a handful, having not known he was being sent off for new purposes.

Axwel would have plenty of time to set him up, too. The sleeping spell they put him under lasted for quite a while, and it's easy to see when he's about to awaken as the magi stretches and shifts around quite a bit before even starting to stir.

[lovesuwithknives]

"Yes, yes, your masters'll receive more updates than they'll know what to do with," a cultured tenor voice says, not far away. "Now, shoo, before I decide to make you useful."

A door closes soon after that and the voice heaves an annoyed sigh, muttering something about functionaries.

When he comes round fully, Judar will find he's been strapped to a table. A... strangely comfortable table, all cushioned and warm, like a bed. Even the restraints are about as comfortable as restraints can be. But despite how padded they are, they still stop him moving much.

Also, he's nude.

Also also, there's rather a lot of magitech to this table... bed... thing, and if he tilts his head back far enough he'll see the whole thing is crowned with a complex circular array of metal and crystals, which would all be rather pretty if its prevenance weren't such a mystery.

How much is that Az in the window?

[kuroi_taiyo]

It's not that people were getting fed up with Judar visiting and hanging out with them all the time that he was at this particular establishment. They didn't tell him to find something else to keep him busy. The people he grew up with definitely didn't say that if he was so lonely, he should just get a pet or something. Only to immediately retract that statement because it'd imply having more responsibility than Judar's ever shown.

What really happened is that everyone else was busying themselves with boring things, like academics, new careers, politics or something, and he didn't know what to do these days. He didn't have anything particular in mind, but walking around put him outside this pet shop. So, sure, why not? If anything, he'll kill some time browsing around.

Which would definitely take a while, as he started on the side with the rabbits and such, which he was ready to pass on immediately. He's heard about them being pretty frail. Both the birds and dogs were too loud for his liking, wanting attention or to just... Give him a headache really. One that he was shaking off, letting the long braid sway around with the motion, while going into the cat area. He was already thinking it would be easier to get an adult cat anyway, so Judar was already going slower around displays like Azwel's compared to one of the kittens.

[lovesuwithknives]

There are very few adult cats at the moment, and only one of them is awake. He's very large and very fluffy, all purple and grey, his golden eyes watching curiously. He sits on a nest of cushions in a manner that could only be described as insouciant. As Judar comes nearer Azwel's gaze grows fixed, pupils widening. He's tracking something, but what?

The answer becomes abundantly clear the moment Judar gets near enough. Azwel's hand shoots out and he playfully bats at that long, long braid, grinning.

Sex Cult with a twist

[whatsina_name]

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the boy chosen to be the 'sacrifice' is a bit nervous about the whole thing. He's been selected for a number of qualities, in hopes that they will resonant with the god the cultists wish to call on, to allow for a proper attunement with a mortal host that will last past the course of the ritual.

'Curiosity' is one of these qualities, and perhaps the one that keeps him from running.

The theory is perfect; provided they've chosen the right host, that the things they think they know about the god are true, it is almost guaranteed to work. Or to blow up in a spectacular fashion. Those are pretty much the two options, given who is leading them tonight. In either case, the boy steps forward when beckoned, drawn into the middle of the circle.

[lovesuwithknives]

Azwel looks their sacrifice up and down for an instant, little more than a flick of his eyes. Hm. They found a pretty one, didn't they? Not that he's complaining. The slightest hint of a smile tugs at his lips, though he remains composed. Must keep up appearances, after all.

As soon as the young fellow steps into the circle Azwel lifts his hands. The chanting and drumming stop, though the other cultists continue circling the altar.

"Hear us! The moon, white-litten sister of the daystar, reaches her zenith. Hear us! Our voices, gladsome in this time of change, cry out in song and in prayer. Hear us! Your vessel, chosen in accordance with your signs, awaits your spirit!"

Azwel steps forward, reaching out his hands to unfasten the robe the young fellow wears. Close to, he seems to radiate a strangely enticing heat. His scent is faint but inviting, dark and musky-sweet. While he does this unfastening his eyes never leave the other's, and though his eyes are pale they are warmed and deepened by the firelight.

"What is your name, lad?" he asks, flicking open the last of the stays and pushing the robe from the younger man's shoulders.