indie, selective and private rp blog for aesop carl from netease’s game identity v, heavily based on headcanons mixed to given canon lore,
as preserved by vega.
NOTE: death and medical terminology are heavy and very persistent subjects when it comes to aesop due to his job as an embalmer and mortician, so if constant mentions of both are even just uncomfortable for you, do not interact ; due to the historical period and nature of identity v’s setting, there will be mentions of cosmic horror, dehumanization, unreality, asylums, grooming, abuse, violence and demonization of mental illnesses and again DO NOT INTERACT IF ANY OF THIS TRIGGERS YOU. things will be written here with the utmost respect and research. refer to rules for further and better explained disclaimers.
hello im legit logging in to say danish - german aesop who actually has ties to danish royalty AND german nobility and got stripped of both statuses when jerry took him away from his mom rights
@hazardousact sent: As Aesop is found on his knees inspecting one of his coffins, Mike's curiosity peeks in and he decides to cross his arms and rest them on top of Aesop's back as he looks down in curiosity at the other's work "What are you doin' Mr. Pretty face?"
“ eek━━!! ” sudden touch would oh so easily have tethering edge of anxiety and calm tip over just like embalmer’s oh so precise focus, a yelp bringing soothing and airy voices to new highs in their immediate manifesto of panic fueled more by endearment spoken in tones of provocation within ever - so - large grin of cheshiresque acrobat ━as if balance broken, as if all vital spaces violated in utmost defiance, a flail from brush - wielding grip wanting to reach for casket’s clasps and snap them closed so that work of his would rather be preserved instead of his own most cursed and unfortunate self. “ m - mister, mister morton, p - please move, i - i can’t - i can’t - i can’t work like this━━ ”
@wildinfinitum ( eli ) sent: Eli's head peaks into the room, seeking the source of the harp being strummed that they'd heard faintly through the manor. The creaking of the door and their footsteps are the only audible signal of their presence, as they wave to gain Aesop's attention, followed by their hands signing, « Apologies for the intrusion. May I listen? »
indeed creak of parting door just sounded oh so jarring against sweetness and melancholy of harp’s minuet, a screech no everfeathery sooth of lullabies could ever placate with how it sliced through and caused death’s lovely embalmer to halt gliss of ungloved fingers and bring steelgray hues towards its source, quelled anxiety in a waking grumble akin to agitated beast ready to snap and bring him to deerlike fugue ━only to calm itself down when recognizing patterns of recoiling snakes and ancient seals on endless blues he could only associate to sightless seer, thanking for mask to hide delicate upcurl of pale lips.
“ mister eli, hello. ” oh so soft voice of darling aesop, oh so inviting just like his own music and deathlike reveries could be as he restarted a simple warm up tempo, a tapping onto pedal to adjust dancing semitones. “ y -you are ... very welcome to listen, i wasn’t - i wasn’t playing anything peculiar, i wasn’t. ”
@etherealflora ( kurt ) sent: “I think that someone has something on their mind, hmmm?” ( flurry of fussing starters ! )
alas caught he was, silvereyed fool from heavens above dropped to suffer forevermore within heaps of looping damnation, eternal purgatory for sins those holy hands never were meant to have committed ━with barely a flush of faint roses and peonies dancing above darkline of facemask, his own hands in conundrum of embarrassed fidgeting. guiltily he’d glare at stool by his side, its crooked leg almost grinning hideously as if set for him to fail already. “ no, i - i can promise you, mister kurt, ━i just misplaced my foot, it ... it happens, i wasn’t thinking about anything at all ... ”
THE THEMES: corrupted holier than thou guilds / world orders that are way too sketchy and crave eternal war / vampire secret societies and adjacent politics / ouroboros of greed and pride / who’s the real monster ? / the power of blood.
CONTENT WARNINGS: mentions of child grooming / mental & emotional abuse and indoctrination, wars and politics ( it’s vampire politics, but you never know ), discrimination of both supernatural creatures by humans / humans by supernatural creatures, demonization and dehumanization, death and mercy kills, manipulation and mind games.
as always please do not steal anything / take inspiration from here, any mention of other IDV characters is just purely casual and there’s no obligation to abide to every word i say, i’m just a writer who rambles a lot ;;
𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚙: a forsaken youth whose blood traces ancient priests and aristocrats just like his whole being is painted in grays and whites and reds, whose honorable father disappeared under mysterious circumstances when he was too young to remember and whose lovely mother’s health was so quickly deteriorating because of a mysterious abyssal disease ━he ended up leaving his home in order to live with the old family friend and trusted figure of jerry carl, as lastly wished by aesop’s mother herself before passing away. the known veteran, member of the most influential guild of supernatural hunters of the Allegiance of Countries known as The Order, raised the child himself by imbuing the guild’s creed and his own hatred towards supernatural creatures, for he had seen the great potential that laid within the pale child ━especially when it came to both his rare blood and his affinity with the supernatural as aesop has always shown as a child the ability to see spirits and perceive the presence of supernatural creatures as clearly as he could so easily admire the traces of stars on a night sky, things most hunters and humans can't do and that of course try to compensate for with their techniques. memories of his past prior leaving with jerry are hazy at best, but all that remained as vivid as ever was his mother’s tired smile ━and the harp demanded to come with him in the new place he was supposed to call home.
as he bloomed into adulthood, he became a model of what a diligent exorcist had always been supposed to be: a living weapon for The Order to take pride of and use, a terror for creatures haunting and decimating humanity to fear, developing his blood bait at a spectacularly young age and successfully adapt it to his own natural gifts ━and when jerry died ( by aesop’s hands himself who so heartlessly shot the agonizing mentor who nighly was turning into a rabid ghoul ), aesop simply took over the mentor's duties and position as The Order’s mortician much to the higher planes’ glee.
but perhaps it was indeed because of jerry not being around anymore to manipulate his deadly creation and the curiosity he harbored deep within the indoctrinated diligence ━or perhaps it was because of said deadly creation showing signs of hesitation and true mercy when sparing a rogue vampire he was supposed to eradicate from its hideout not that far from one of the province’s towns━ the pale exorcist had started to realize that some things didn’t add up, that some things he’s never questioned just because he grew up in it and knew nothing more about than an eerie sensation hitting him down his spine every now and then had actually some gruesome, macabre obscenities in its womb.
𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚜: not much is really known about its birth, a history as clouded by fog as the birth of the world and the first great wars in the eternal darkness ━considered the greatest armed force within the Allegiance of Countries, The Order is involved deeply in the politics and matters of those states requiring their presence, judgement and interventions. its structure as well is a mystery, with orders impossible to defy coming from the high council manifesting only in so - called times of need, and the serious to everyday matters under the strict control of the high summoners and the very running strength of The Order: the exorcists ━often presenting themselves solo or in groups of two / three members, with each one specializing in several arts from contact to more intellect - focused studies and often ending up with one becoming their main field alongside their signature blood baits.
blood baits are the most known technique every adept of The Order needs to learn to access to if they want to be able to be considered full part of The Order, created by the blood of the exorcist imbued in special items which then create a symbiotic bond with the exorcist meant to last until the exorcist passes away ━or at least as long as every month exorcists will respect the requirement of participating to blood donations which is said to be the only way to renew the bond with the blood bait and to create to create supplementary hunger baits for creatures like vampires, ghouls, wendigos / skinwalkers, werewolves, demons of various kinds ( any creature that feeds on blood or flesh, pretty much ) ; it takes several years for a blood bait to start to develop and a great number of standard exorcists never truly manage to reach its fullest potential, and each blood bait is different from one another and cannot be passed on from exorcist to another.
aesop’s blood bait, ‘ embalm ’, is contained in the mortician cosmetic box the exorcist is seen always carrying along, and when opened it takes the shape of an elaborate coffin. the casket itself is able to summon a lifelike replica of himself or someone else he’s able to replicate, powered by his own blood and consequently maneuverable by him like a life sized puppet.
𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛: no self righteous claim is ever backed by equally pure true intentions, and The Order is no exception ━as their extremism has been known to know no ends just like their pride and greed, their desire to acquire more power and more riches causing them to indeed thread with the very creatures they claim of despising and creating the most complex and extensive blood trafficking ring that still to this day has never been truly caught or dismantled. they claim it’s in order to infiltrate and create ways to mine the greatest menace from the inside, but greed and hunger for more and more just roars louder within the darkest abysses.
truth be told, so much of the ancient beliefs of The Order has been tressed in lies at some point in the darkest centuries and only those at the very top are well aware of it ━of how the blood baits do not need to be ‘ renewed ’ every month, of how blood in the supplementary hunger baits either comes from some unfortunate corpse or animals and all that blood taken away from the loyal and blinded exorcists gets actually sold to the great holders of the status quo known as the vampire aristocracy who so much want to hold their eons - old power just as much as their enemy and ‘ partners ’ want to steal it all from them ; they’re blueblood, old money after all ( the Bloodline above them all ), indifferent if not unbothered by the lower folk and creatures whose diatribes and feral rages act as more of a nuisance they’d like to get rid of before anything too out of hand can ever hope to happen. and in that, The Order’s strict beliefs just come quite handy ━especially considering the infighting between factions within the great clans of blood and how each clan dares using The Order to ' take care ' of dissidents that might menace the thin ice between two great forces, creating and manipulating several situations in order to trigger their intervention. and some members of the order itself ━or rather, those who are well suspicious but aren't aware of how things run deep in the highest spheres nor speak━ do not really hold any sympathy nor desire to be seen as the vampires' attack dog , for them it's just a temporary alliance given by the blood trafficking ring bc this way they get information about the enemy and ways to fully plot a mass extermination, usually dissidents in the order just ' disappear mysteriously '.
it kinda works like a cold war born from an even ancient war leaving no trust between one another and ruination at each step in an equilibrium that truly doesn’t exist and is as much of a lie as everything else, with these subtle jabs at one another in higher spheres being covered by the loudness of both the hungerous creatures inhabiting the land and the facade of fanaticism of The Order ; both sides are driven by their own most selfish and most obscure desire and cravings that only seem to be amplified dangerously the more time passes, both sides want nothing but their status quo to reign and be maintained for their own interests to keep being fulfilled forevermore: The Order wanting for the extermination of all supernatural ‘ for the sake of humanity’s safety ’, the power and the riches ━and the Bloodline ( among other so - called allies ) to stay ontop of the social and power ladder and have endless pools of blood for them to feast on while all of the world would crash and burn in a new apocalypse allowing them to rewrite everything as their image and ideal.
( but maybe there’s more, creatures of lingering abyss playing chess with the living in their most maddening boredom, hiding underneath dormant churches ━who knew. )
@hazardousact sent: "Ah--- Aesop, ever heard of pocky day?" He speaks as he takes one of the pocky sticks out of the box and nonchalantly places it in between his lips "Wanna help me figure out how it works?"
“ everybody has - has been talking about it b - but no one had really much t - time to explain to me ... what it e - entails precisely. ” oh so naive angelic one fallen away from highest graces and divinemost thrones above was, oh so much unaware of humane ways and quips for beings like him never were to be associated with rumorous quips of humane mind and kind and delicate thoughts of death embellished in putrid vines and yellow roses never could hope to comprehend ━oh so melancholic as everpresent thought of unwantedness lingered more and more within tresses of argent like barren lands getting first coat of snow ; truly a folly akin to great depths of hell was, to even remotely think any would waste precious words more meant for precious things when all they’d truly want was to pluck remnants of broken wings and draw strings of endless mockery to cracks of halo never meant to be pieced back together for he’s lost all divinitas’ blessings, death’s most devoted angel whose hands were forever stained in dribbling droplets of humane carmines.
and carmines oh so eerie and oh so pretty in glints of steelgray hues as silverwhite lashes batted and eyes averted away ━trying not to put focus on performer’s painted feats and chocolate - coated stick trapped within widening grin, precise streaks of makeup brush he could oh so easily catch with trained glance, embarrassment like trails of poinsettia and lilies on pale unmasked lips speaking of edenlike wintry pathways. “ how ... does it work, mister morton ? ”
“Sometimes I truly believe this shitty manor is cursed….” Don´t mind him as he is completely soaked from head to toes after repairing the shower of one of the survivor´s rooms.
“ the manor isn’t k - kind to us, mister campbell, it never has b - been ... shifting rooms, endless nights ... we - we are cursed to never leave, after - after all. ” and yet so gently gloved digits of angelic death incarnate in ever so dainty figure of humane fallen grace would almost so mindlessly drag themselves upwards, trapping soaked lock of umber behind ear of greed’s childe ━a moment of realization, skittish movement backwards as if burned by hell’s thousand fires. “ i’m - my apologies, i didn’t mean to - to be this inopportune. ”
anyways the full au post about the exorcist skin au is coming very soon bc i just collected things and brainworms for it and i’m gonna Crave Interactions like the fool i am
trickster / coa will come next and it’s gonna be tied to golden rose theater, rorschach has white tombstone as a base bc that fangame pretty much is the realization of the au ideas i had over that essence minus the finale, music master is just Actual Harpist Aesop Carl and yeah
@artisticichor sent: "Do you live in a bubble? Even I -points at himself- Know what those chocolate covered sticks are for--- it's but a poor way to ask for a kiss out from someone. Don't thank me for saving you the trouble of embarrassing yourself any further" EDGARISAWFULIMSORRY
oh edgar, if only it was possible for you to glimpse at past just like you’d be so easily and flimsily obsessing over coats of perfect paint ! it’d be oh so ironically tragic to realize of it ━angel of death but a groomed fallen thing whose grace was shattered and remnants forcibly shoved in a bubble made of dripping formaldehyde, harp chords and cut atropos’ strings. “ i just ... don’t know what t - that was. i have never seen such ... peculiarly shaped chocolate b - before. ”
