Some Alphys fren requests from Discord ♪(´▽｀)

Semper!Alphys belongs to @unknowntalesbymiles Radioactive!Alphys belongs to @vickling27 Inverso!Alphys belongs to @nova2cosmos Resident!Alphys belongs to @parniathedevil

i. sic semper tyrannis.

“thus always (i bring death) to tyrants”  - 

They stood, two alone, among the wreckage of the Agrius, gazing up at the monument to what many would have once called his greatest failure. Once - as he had, since then, accrued many more. 

Ahru’s mind lingered instead upon the great wyrm, the silent specter watching over all. She could not help but to wonder if he saw her now, standing alongside the man he sacrificed so much for in order to stop. Her, the woman he likewise sacrificed all he had since restored so that she could keep going. A dry, breathy laugh escaped her at the thought of whatever snarky comment he might have made, were only he here now… 

When she looked to Gaius though, his stoic features were locked upon the wyrms silhouette, entirely unreadable. The crease in his brow could have been anything; anger, remorse… constipation? No, probably not that one. With an inward chuckle she shook such thoughts aside, finding it much more straightforward to simply ask. “I wonder, do you hate him?” Blunt, perhaps, but otherwise what? Beating around the bush and skirting the query until it lost all meaning? Surely he must have carried some resentment for the mighty Midgardsormr, Bane of the XIVth. His brow rose in something akin to surprise, his chest and shoulders giving a sharp heave in -dare she presume- what looked to have been a silent laugh. Gaze turned upon her, his expression shifted from a subtle, curious surprise and back to stern thoughtfulness. “Hate?” He repeated the word as if to try it on his own tongue, re-fixing his eyes upon the wreckage and the wyrm. Silence reigned for a moment, as he tried to fit the word like some puzzle piece into the imagery in front of him. “Some part of me must have always thought myself above the sway of such trivial emotions. A good soldier realizes their enemies are not necessarily a force of evil to be despised, but an individual led by belief in their own cause. Hating one’s enemy is a poison that would only give rise to unspeakable horrors, all in the name of overcoming your foe.” Her eye caught the hint of movement - his loose hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Like Black Rose,” she murmured quietly, following his gaze towards that distant fixture. Near, and yet so far… “Among many other atrocities the Empire has committed… Hate and fear so often go hand-in-hand, after all.” He shook his head as if to dismiss such musings. “I do not hate the wyrm, no. Any hatred in me is reserved now only for the Ascian snakes who would use the hearts of men against themselves in their twisted schemes.” “That all sounds good and honorable, but it makes you no less responsible for the things you’ve done.” There was no vitriol in her words - none in her whatsoever. Just a sad, simple truth as she looked instead to the quiet waters between them and the wreckage. “You will be held accountable one day.” She felt his hardened gaze upon her again, but did not lift her own to meet it this time. “Once the Ascian’s are dealt with once and for all, I would welcome it. For playing my role, however unwittingly, in their plot… I will pay the price history would demand of me.” “History?” Her eye narrowed, thoughts shook uncertain by the word, not quite able to grasp his meaning. “The same fate history has dictated for any failed ruler or would-be-conqueror.” Another dry, bitter laugh shook his shoulders - a hollow sound without heart. “And will you stand among the jury, Warrior of Light? Or perhaps yours would be the role of the executioner?” Her brow creased and she pursed her lips, glowering up at him with a flaring need to deny him - though she could tell it was a flimsy thing, still affected with a bitter sadness. She had no desire to play such a part, nor had she ever. But then the hot winds went from her sails and she was left searching the depths of his eyes for a truer answer. 

They were hard and unyielding, proof that at the core he was the same man she’d known long ago. He had said before revenge was the only thing he now lived for… Gaius van Baelsar was dead, and only the Shadowhunter, Gaius Baelsar remained. He was a shell of himself motivated by that one all-consuming desire; one and the same, yet wholly different.   Lips curving into a grin, she laughed and relaxed her posture some, shrugging. “I’ll do what I do best, Baelsar. I’ll punch fate in the teeth and send it reeling.” The surprise writ across his countenance lingered a while longer this time, the lines in his face betraying how long it must have been since his brow had last arched so high. With another small laugh -part mischievous, part musical- she tilted her head at him. “Besides, I was given to believe you didn’t believe in such whimsical things like fate.” And like that his expression soured back into its usual stoicism - and an extra hint of disapproval. With a grunt he shook his head, exasperated. “What else might you call my happening upon the boy, or even yourself, in the Burn? I may not put much stock in fate, or rely upon it to guide my actions, but I’ll not deny some occurrences in this world have a curious means of working themselves to fruition or failure. Eikons charged with overseeing such a concept is another matter entirely.” With a shrug, Ahru idly kicked at a small pebble - her thoughts momentarily tripping up over the mention of Alphinaud. Alphy, locked in slumber back at the Rising Stones. And just like that she didn’t really care about any of this back and forth, or the whims of fate, wanting only to be back home, in case there were any updates - in case they’d found the Beacon. Whether he had the insight to have noticed it or not, Gaius quickly enough filled for her lapse into silence. “Come, let us move on. I believe we’ve both had our fill of introspection and dourness. There’s no need to tarry here any longer.” Without another word he turned, heading back towards Revenant’s Toll. One blue eye followed him, widened slightly in her own momentary surprise now. No, perhaps she was simply projecting, or seeing what she wanted to see; ‘the best in people’. She needed it badly, perhaps now more than ever. With a skip in her step, she quickly caught up with him, deciding to simply go with the flow, rather than exhaust herself needlessly resisting it.