The endless Void, The gazing abyss, The bottomless ocean of horror...It coiled itself around your tender heart

strange how home seems to come in the form of a small band of rogues on an island haven.

so small in the grand scheme of things, to a being that exists beyond normal planes and has lived and seen far greater civilisations rise and fall.

but then its not the place, its more the people that matter,

and to someone who's long lost his own family - with no true hope he'll ever actually see them again - these fleeting lives that had welcomed him and called him friend - family, they were more precious to him than maybe they could or ever would know.

a single flex of massive vantablack wings like ink spilled against the mid afternoon sky and freckled with distant stars sends him into a slow decline towards where he knows his home - his family, found - now reside,

idly he wonders who still remains here - he knows Goldie does, that ever present flame on the edge of his senses, strong as always even when it sometimes falters.

he lands steadily, nary a disturbance save the indents in the sand - great sweeping wings tucking away behind him while his armoured form shifts to stand quietly, bi-coloured eyes tracking around the area for any signs of familiar persons, he had appeared briefly to help in the volcano events, but disappeared again soon after, he could only hope they wouldn't find that against him - he'd simply needed some time.

it had been just a very specific anniversary recently after all - and he hadn't been too well with it, grief weighing down the immortal being heavier than he normally shouldered it.

Luciferus sighed, breath whistling between teeth and seemingly muttered to himself "Well, I'm home"

LUCIFERUS GRIMM

The endless Void, The gazing abyss, The bottomless ocean of horror...It coiled itself around your tender heart

his meandering thoughts snap back to reality when tiny pawsteps reach his senses and a familiar quiet voice greets him, obsidian maw quirks idly in fondness - it’s good to see familiar faces.

The massive beast shifts to lean down to their level, with a huff and half smile past onyx armour at the two, he hums at Maisie’s musing, easily understandable to an ancient creature as he, and gently noses Keona ”my apologies, I had some old business to set in order - that’s to say, it’s good to be home and more so to see familiar faces” it’s an unspoken thought that he wonders if there are others still here, he knows Goldie now leads, but how many had come and gone in his time away?

It still hurts to know Pincher passed in his absence, though if he knows the grumpy ex-leader as well as he does, that might not keep him down forever - or so he hopes.

LUCIFERUS GRIMM

The endless Void, The gazing abyss, The bottomless ocean of horror...It coiled itself around your tender heart

ah, speak of the devil, eh? He’d smile at his own joke if it weren’t for the fact his snout is now being hugged tightly from where he’d gently nosed Keona (and thus made a huge target for hugging) and feels briefly overwhelmed - still after all this time, he’s not used to warm receptions no matter how many times it might happen, he hums quietly nudging back into the hug - because he has missed this, missed them all quite terribly even as his grief kept him away (his grief and his rage, he knows - the first is a wretched site, the second is ruinous and he thinks, he thinks he’d rather not frighten them with that again - too often has he acted in rage and watched as those that proclaimed to love him then turn him away - he remembers once, a too small prison and the abandonment, the betrayal and the sky turning to blood)

He smiles though - it’s less that he’d known (though the rumours then confirmed) than the he couldn’t or rather wouldn’t comprehend a Typhoon without Goldie or a typhoon without a Roux, it didn’t seem right - and she has been here through all of it, outside himself to some perhaps, she is one of its foundations no matter the struggle.

The typhoon wouldn’t be the typhoon without Goldie and if Pinch was an almost surrogate son, then Goldie is his surrogate granddaughter by default.

And if he’s honest it wouldn’t be the typhoon without these familiar faces (he doesn’t think he’ll recognise a typhoon without a raptor or a typhoon without the fate clan that he’d watched play about the beaches - though he knows many faces are now missing and that hurts - and he is again reminded of fragile mortality and the sands of time that slip ever quicker)

He chuckles then and agrees ”but of course, my dear” and tries not to choke over the sudden relief that, yes it was true, not everyone is gone, Goldie is here, not everyone he knew and loved is dead and dust - that he hadn’t lost himself in his grief for so long that time had passed so quickly without his knowing.

LUCIFERUS GRIMM