[lucipher69-deactivated20220905]

[albionvigil]

decomposeyourself‌:

@albionvigil liked for an event starter (part 2)

Amalie is having a terrible day. They’d gone back to the mess of their living spaces to collect some things, only for the sky to open up and rain hell. Something about someone pounding on the door and screaming about the FBI had been enough to send them into a small panic, and with the scene of horror left on the doorsteps, Amalie had fled out the back door and into the bright of day, not noticing the trail of decay circling around the building, as if something had been tracking there. 

Now they were in a quiet cat and mouse game all over the city, Amalie occasionally lashing out and rotting the thing, only for it to repair. They were not without their own issues though, given the wounds they were required to keep repairing, half ill from being on the move and not being able to stop and think for a moment. 

They’re in Golden now, skulking through all the other fighting, and constantly looking over their shoulder. It works, but it’s exhausting, and Amalie feels half mad by the time they run into someone else who looks like they don’t want to be in the middle of this either.

“Say,” Amalie rubs the sweat from their face, scowling as it doesn’t feel any better. “You haven’t seen a figure in a gas mask around here, have you?” 

Just as Virgil believes the situation could not decline further, it does so like a landslide. Fortunately, he’s acquired everything he needs to do battle once again, though the return of his sword and other abilities awakens no bloodlust inside him. 

On the contrary, he’s as reluctant to join the fighting now as when the outbreak of chaos first reared its ugly head. It could not be avoided indefinitely though, and never would he forgive himself if he’d just holed up somewhere safe and waited for the storm to pass when he knows there are people out there who might benefit from his help.

Amidst the shade of towering buildings that shield him from deadly sunlight, he moves stealthily, quiet as a dormouse. He ambushes only when forced to and by the time he once again crosses paths with something that isn’t outwardly hostile, his blade is well oiled in the unnaturally tinged blood of the beasts he’s slayne to make it this far. The question elicits a pause, only brief as the memory of something matching that description was still fresh. 

❛ Yes, a few blocks behind me. ❜

❛ I can take you there, if you’re looking for them. ❜ 

[albionvigil]

acaciacollector‌:

There’s an odd kind of thrill in being forced to fight without a demon’s strength. Gyuutarou had gotten used to being at the peak of the food chain, a point where fighting was no longer a struggle for survival, but simply a way to establish dominance. Fighting because you wanted to, rather than had to.

No, wait, it’s not thrilling at all. It sucks. 

Gyuutarou sits against a wall in the aftermath of a NULL agent ambush. No clue where Daki went, probably hunting someone down, but he’d gotten careless. Too used to the power of an Upper Moon, and now he was paying for it. His legs stop at the knees, sliced off by some blade he hadn’t noticed. Weirdest part of it all was how much it hurt. He hadn’t hurt in a while.

Taking a while to regenerate, too. Eating doesn’t seem to help- is he just gonna have to wait until Daki comes back? 

No, not by the sound of those approaching footsteps. Gyuutarou smiles as the stranger comes into sight; he must be one hell of a sight himself. A handful of bodies on the street, blood staining the buildings, and him, sitting there like the loser of the fight. Sucks to be seen this way.

“These friends of yours? Hope not, man. Otherwise you’re gonna have a hell of a time with those funeral arrangements. Unless you wanna build a bonfire and do it all at once, my man.”

He laughs, scratching at his chest. “So long as you’re here, you mind doing me a favor? See over there?” He points down the street, towards another bloodstain. “See those legs? Yeah, I need those back. C’mon, handsome guy like you isn’t afraid of some blood on those nice clothes, right?”

@albionvigil​

Carnage, the likes of which he’s not witnessed for a long time, if ever, forces an avert of his gaze as the Methuselah cautiously treads the road strewn in severed limbs and paved with spilled entrails. Scent of blood so empowering it sears his nostrils, simultaneously repulsive and irresistible. Under any other circumstances he might have been tempted to harvest the life fluid for dry spells, but in this case doing so seems...unethical. 

Virgil does not expect to see anyone left standing in such a gruesome aftermath, and yet, after some time spent ambling, sickening squelching sounds echoing with each of his steps, he discovers another living being. Not standing exactly, but very much alive still and oh----What a sense of humour he had for someone whose legs were torn off at the knees.

   ❛ I have no friends here. ❜

He’s affiliated himself with neither side, both as bad as the other in his opinion. Pale eyes following the same direction as the pointed finger, Virgil gives a single nod and sets off to return the stranger’s misplaced limbs. He returns with the two bloody stumps, one dangling from each hand and keeps a steady hold.

   ❛ Before I give these to you, may I ask what you plan to do once you are mobile again? Or indeed, how you plan to re-attach them? ❜

[albionvigil]

heart3yed‌:

@albionvigil / starter call.

💛 💜 ❤️ || it seems something of a ridiculous thing to be WORKED UP over, but the level of empathy she possesses is more or less focused on the animal kingdom, with very little saved for humans or other human-like races. not an intent foul, simply she is far more calmed in the presence of animals. they do not fight back, they do not LASH OUT — she opened the egg, and a frog tumbled out to REST upon her skull. one may assume, erroneously, in fact, that the angry sound she makes is one of DISPLEASURE towards the creature in question, but the reality instead reveals itself when she says. ❝why did they put a LIVING THING in here?❞

   ❛ It does seem unnecessarily cruel doesn’t it? ❜ 

Virgil muses back, no stranger to captivity himself. Though, at least the Ghettos, dank and brimming with squalor as they were, stretched the breadth of Londinium. Unlike the claustrophobic fate forced upon these little frogs. Virgil’s own hunt thus far has yielded only candied goods and decorative trinkets, he hopes this implies that ‘frog’ eggs are only few and far between. 

Peering from under the drape of his black hood, he studies the frog perched on her head, its throat ballooning out with each croak.

   ❛ No harm appears to have come to it though. ❜

   ❛ It actually looks quite content. ❜ 

[albionvigil]

@bashfullygreen   𝔖𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔱𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔉𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩

Fiery sparks whip the sky, bursting through the night in brilliant displays of soaring colours crafted to resemble flowers exploding at high speed. Virgil marvels at the sight over and over, joining the cacophony of ooohs and aaaahs along with the crowd. It’s quite a treat, for once, to be able to enjoy something meant for the absence of broad daylight, his elevated mood even tempts him to spark conversation, a thing he rarely does if he can avoid it.

  ❛ It is impressive is it not? ❜

  ❛ I wonder how they’re able to make it so the fireworks bloom into flower shapes like that. ❜

[albionvigil]

@grexsemxnkcy   𝔖𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔱𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔉𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩

Heat beats down on him in relentless waves, exacerbated by the dark cloak lining his shoulders to shield him from deadly rays. Fortunately, a soupcon of wind rustles by every so often, providing both a comfortable breeze and much needed boost for his kite to drift higher into a floating herd of white clouds. A moment in time worth risking harm for, Virgil thinks, for never before had the strings of a kite graced his fingertips. 

He doesn’t yet quite possess the knack for navigating the tempests though, and it takes but one strong gust to sweep his kite into collision with a neighbouring one, their strings tangling around each other in a mess of tight knots as they continue their aerial waltz. Contrite, even if this too is hidden beneath the dark attire he dons, Virgil voices his apology to the kite’s owner.

   ❛ Sorry, I ... ❜

   ❛ I have never flown a kite. ❜

[isolaradiale]

Welcome to the Springtide Festival!

A Note: This is not an event and does not count as event participation towards ranking up. This is merely a collection of fun, lighthearted activities and starter ideas that will persist throughout the duration of the festival.

Spring has arrived, and with it the colours and aromas of recently bloomed flora, the excitement the people of Spirale share during the change of season, and best of all… city-wide celebrations! Never a group to waste the opportunity for a good festival, the citizens of Spirale have set up a number of fun activities to last until April 6th at 11:59:59PM EST. You’re encouraged to use any or all of these ideas in your threads until then!

Keep reading

[blxnchette]

Trinity Blood Act. 64: The Dark Knight Rises Virgil Appreciation Post.

[albionvigil]

kizuatto‌:

open starter! | mutuals only

Ah shit. I should have seen that coming.

He has come to rely solely on his quirk alone that he forgot being stripped off of it could lead to his impending death when coming across the wrong crowd. Timing the limitations of his abilities is something he needs to work on. He shouldn’t have provoked those assholes the second they tried to rob him; maybe then they wouldn’t have given him a brutal beating even after realizing that he has nothing for them to rob. Every aching muscle in his body seizes up as he slides down the brick wall— everything about him now a bloody, bruised mess.

A wheezing cough punches the breath out of him and leaves an excruciating sting in his ribs. He takes in a sharp gasp of breath before leaning his head back against the wall as he tries to keep himself from blacking out.

Virgil’s learned to ignore the metallic tinge of ion when it permeates the air, knowing that anywhere doused with enough blood he can feel the scent crawling up his nose never leads to anything good. Confiscated from his abilities and weapon, he seeks no quarrel with the rest of the islanders here and avoidance, in his opinion, is preferable to confrontation. Yet it is a lesson that has apparently not fully sunk in as he ends up following the trail anyway, leading him to the discovery of a severely battered Terran. 

Virgil spares him the obvious question of asking if he’s alright when clearly, that is not the case. Black hood obscuring half of his features, he kneels before the injured party, cautious to maintain a safe distance between them.

   ❛ Do you need help? ❜ 

[albionvigil]

@sanguisomnum​ ♞.

Black cloak shrouding his identity, footfalls are nigh silent as he slips out of a hospital side exit. The dead of night, when staff is spread thinly and patients sedated by dreams, presented an opportune moment to smuggle out the blood bags he’d paid steeply for moments prior.

He makes it but a few feet away from the building, before a resounding splat jolts his passive countenance. His gaze drops in alarm, where at his feet pools a puddle of crimson from a fallen bag that had split on impact. The fluid continues to drizzle out, branching red streams all over the path.

Quick to his knees, Virgil proceeds to try and recoup some of his spilled bounty, scraping what droplets he can off the asphalt and into a small vial.

[sadisticxprince]

[lenfantterribles-archive]