➥ ursula : vs. lady maria.
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@axeworne
➥ ursula : vs. lady maria.
fellomenking:
“Come then! If thou art confident in thine own skill.”
Gods, she burned. Rage boiled her blood, and she grit her teeth, snapping her axe out to its full length and gripping it in both hands tight enough to turn her knuckles white. Just go out and kill a few beasts, Gehrman had said -- and she would deny following his advice until the day she died, but there was something to be said for the catharsis of chopping a head. She flung herself across the bridge at the stranger.
like for an ask!
ursula is a pc and alex is a boss battle. ne'er the two shall meet because ursula would rip his health bar from the bottom of the screen and beat him with it.
we have lingered in the chambers of the sea, by sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown, ‘til human voices wake us, ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ and we drown.
independent roleplay blog for an original character based on fromsoftware’s bloodborne: the old hunters. | promo base
like for an ask!
The Muppets Take Yharnam
like for a starter.
we have lingered in the chambers of the sea, by sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown, ‘til human voices wake us, ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ and we drown.
independent roleplay blog for an original character based on fromsoftware’s bloodborne: the old hunters. | promo base
i forgot how much i love ursula and alexander. two houses both alike in dignity. one allergic to lore and one lore itself.
Émilie Dequenne in Le Pacte des Loups (2001)
also zipping between here and @swordsborne!
❝ hinder me? thou fool. no living man may hinder me! ❞ then merry heard of all sounds in that hour the strangest. it seemed that they laughed, and the clear voice was like the ring of steel: – but no living man am i!
an independent, selective roleplaying blog for a tarnished oc from g.r.r. martin and fromsoftwares’ elden ring. | promo base credit | psd credit
ursula is suited to caelid i think. it’s red. there’s a plague. beasties. unguarded castle because the people are too busy fighting said beasties. blood. birds for killing. just ideal.
blasphering:
There was one being that was worth hunting, but it was quiet asleep. And so he assumes, no. there is no point in assuming. The letter is red, red like the volcano manor stationary, very prominant and also…
“You could have simply used the courier mail for this.” He frowns, flipping it over, finding it untouched. Odd.
“It does get drafty sometimes, perhaps the wind had flew one of my empty stationaries…”
He shakes his head.
“Its loss would not have been so great, but it speaks of your character [or greed] that you personally returned it. Would you like to come in for drinks for the travel down?”
“Courier mail?” she echoed. “Is there any mailman who would climb to the top of a mountain here? Where I’m from, we’ve not a one to be seen.” Yes, Yharnam had more than gone to the dogs; but she’d expected that, heading in. The villages about the mountain base were all well aware of how... abnormal the Yharnamites were, though they were scant on details. The idea of a functioning mail system was beyond her. Therefore, I’m not in Yharnam anymore.
“--I could do with the rest, if it wouldn’t put you out, sir. Thank you very much. And if I may ask, where exactly am I?”
well aren’t they polite in these ‘lands between’? a girl ought to move.
blasphering:
It was, indeed very rare for the volcano manor to actually recieve, willing visitor. The location was something that made people think twice, and only those who were privy to the locations within the manor that had lowered temperatures, stayed.
The doors opened , and a man with Thick Red hair and Beard, dignified appearance, and sanity -
“It is rare. To have people willingly walk here. What brings you to the Volcano Manor , traveller. I certainly do not remember inviting anyone as of late.”
What was this? A proper greeting? Well, she was simply stunned. Mistrusting in nature as she was, she kept her guard up, but she couldn’t resist a small smile. “Oh, I didn’t know that anybody was home. I wouldn’t have just walked in, if I had.” Apparently a bit of politeness went a long way. Feeling the heavy reassurance of the gun at her hip, she took the edges of her coat and sank into a curtsy. “Pardon me, then, but I did find this letter. Here it is.” And she produced it from her pocket and offered it up. “I can only assume the owner must have lost it. I’ve come to return it.” ( To return it, and to see what was worth Hunting here. )