Topic: The Man Before the Madness ((Mature 18+))

Hypnos

Date: 2016-07-03 04:11 EST
**Inspired by the Daedric princes of Skyrim for the story, the names of the Daedric Lords and the realm name belongs to Bethesda Softworks. No copyright infringement intended, all credit for the inspiration goes to Bethesda Softworks.**

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Photo of Ville Valo. Reference to the demeanor of Jyggalag.



"Get your acts together," he growled, the sound of his roaring voice sounding through the training field. His hands clasped behind his back, metallic gloved fingers curled around the menacing helmet of his bulky armor suit. He walked in a straight line, from one end to the other, barking orders to his soldiers. "Do you think you're going to stand a chance on the battlefield against Sheo? Our side of the Isles will be taken by that idiot of a bloody madman with sloppy footwork like that!" He growled, seeing one of the soldiers working lazily in his swings and footwork, hardly seeming to care at all.

Heavy footfalls thudded to the sodden ground as he approached the soldier, who in turn clearly hadn't expected their General to actually made a move against one of his loyal soldiers. Clearly, the man underestimated the brutality of the Daedric Prince of Order. There was no such thing as death for the Daedric Princes, nor their minions. When "death" came, they were merely sent back to their realms. Immortality at it's best, or with rulers such as Jyggalag... the worst. That just meant you couldn't escape his punishment. Only take a meager break from it. The clawed metal glove wrapped around the throat of the soldier, lifting the man well off his feet as he struggled in the General's grasp. Fingers clawed at his arm, legs flailed in the air but made no compact to the Prince. "Worthless, utterly worthless." Jyggalag growled, in a single jolting motion the man's throat was crushed between the gloved fingers and the lifeless body was cast aside, bouncing once then skidding along the ground.

"I would suggest the rest of you work harder, else you will meet the same fate as him." He barked, hands moving back to clasp behind his back as his long stride continued along the field. Eyes holding that of terror pushed themselves harder, muscles straining as they swung their weapons and feet moved more steadily and sure. "That's better." He mused, an angular chin lifting in the air as cold, emerald orbs watched either in approval.. or to some disappointment. Those that didn't fit his quota of effort met different fates. They would be back, they always were. And they would work harder to impress their General, or he would repeat the process until they got tired of dying.

Hypnos

Date: 2016-07-03 05:56 EST
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Trodding through Oblivion, he had set aside his armor for now. It was his down time, the little bit that he had in between training sessions with his soldiers. He took his work more seriously than many, maintaining Order was never an easy feat. His sullen features held not even a quirk of a smile as a cold stare was directed in front of him. Always remaining alert, his foot stopped mid-air as the sound of a cracking twig caught his attention, making his head snap to the side and eyes tick to glance over his shoulder. "Well, if it isn't the Big Bad Wolf. I wouldn't suggest trying to blow my house down, Hircine. It's made of much sturdier material than straw and sticks." The two brothers were always picking fights with one another, rarely ever serious but butting heads was something of a hobby between the Daedric Lords and Princes.

"Oh, come now, Little Red." Swinging down from a high branch, landing gracefully on his feet into a crouch before rising to his full height. "Can't we all just get along?" His arms spread wide as if he was going to give the General a hug, but made no move forward. His head lifted beneath the wide-brimmed hat and a cocky half-smile broke across the scruffy face of the Father of the Manbeasts.

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Hugh Jackman. Reference for Hircine.
Hircine/Momos

"That all depends on you," he finally turned around, eyeing the man with clear suspicion and distrust of his motives for approaching him. "Something tells me you're not here to frollick through fields of green, holding hands and singing songs." His arms crossed over a muscular chest, head ticking to the side as both brows raised expectantly.

Hircine's nose crinkled, hands moving into the pockets of the calf-length leather jacket while he began to stalk around his brother. "I don't frollick, I am far more graceful than that." He barked, then gave a half-assed smirk. He scoffed, shaking his head as wavy tendrils of chocolate lashed at his face. "And as if I would hold your clammy hands. And we both know out of the two of us... I'm the better singer." That was a bold-faced lie, but that didn't stop the king of Mockery and Spite. He could howl at the moon, but as for singing he was brought up short by his brother.

There was an unamused roll of the General's eyes before they locked onto the Huntsman. "Stick to your own domain, Hircine. Lying was never your strong suit." There was a cant of his head, a dark smile spreading across his face. "Wouldn't want Boethiah to get insulted by your pitiful excuse of false claims, would you?" Those emerald orbs narrowed nearly to slit, taunting his brother with the Maiden of Murderous Plotting.

Hircine's own gaze narrowed, his jaw muscles tensing beneath the scruff that speckled his narrow jawline. "Watch your back, Jyggalag. She's not the only one who's bite is worse than their bark." There was a snap of his teeth directed to the General, then he spun on his heel and waltzed off into the woods, slipping into the shadows to make use of travel through Apocripha to get back to his home, the Hunting Grounds.

"Mutt." He spat beneath his breath, turning on his own heel to resume his leisure time. So anti-climatic.