The Divide Between @king-kamijo - Tumblr Blog

“I am the spirit that negates. And rightly so, for all that comes to be Deserves to perish wretchedly; ' Twere better nothing would begin. Thus everything that your terms, sin, Destruction, evil represent— That is my proper element.”

{{ More than 3 years ago, I joined this role-play group with Kamijo. Now, I believe it is time to bid farewell. Much has happened in which I have had the pleasure of exposing all your muses to the arrogant brat that is my Kamijo.

For fear of sounding overly emotional, I will conclude my farewell with a sincere thank you to those who had such patience with my writing and replied to our wonderful creations of storytelling.

Kamijo will no longer be active. So all threads will be dropped except those with his lifetime parter. Unfollow if you wish, I will take no offense from it.

Thank you all. }}

#OOC

{{ To whom I owe: @thomas-ia @nvh-ia and @signumdeivivi and to whom I await @leejieun-ia @vana-ia and @seungie-ia @signumdeivivi I have appropriated this tracker. }}

#ooc

king-kamijo

Classics « « « Kamijo +

In this world of the modern age, knowledge was a right all individuals were of liberty to indulge. Cases of race, religion, social status, occupation, and gender were no case at all. Not for the sake of filling the head with viable council and a basis to stand upon a wider insight of the world. To stand and breathe was something very akin to using that precious breath of air to inhale the words that provided the mind with enlightened factual intellect. Now, it was only a matter of opinion. To some, undoubtedly, there was an immense fog of utter slothful decline when faced with the option of self-study almost as horridly as there was for required learnings of which society deemed necessary and of the norm for any one individual to receive. Those that stood at the opposite end of the fence, would shake their heads in utter disdain at such foul slugs. Kamijo was one of those who prided the gift of knowledge and held the globe of enlightenment within the palm of his gloved hand, so to speak.

Literacy was a noble pursuit; a pastime that only the intellectually ordained would delight in on a regular basis without thought of ‘Must I?’ or ‘Oh, how I hate reading’. The dimwitted were those that turned a nose up at books. Oh, how Kamijo hated the type. The fallen beauty, perpetually having been so very zealous to the literary arts, had been a grand patron of the consecration of libraries throughout his years. Universities that held lavish and well-stocked buildings of the finest in primary sources for ancient and esteemed texts. All holding the donator’s credit under aliases, of course. Testaments to his generosity for all those who had the backbone to expand their mind further than that of a simple collection of practicalities. Although certainly yet another reason for the angel to brag of his higher class above the rest of the common folk, he much preferred to keep it a silent secret of his very own. Heaven only knew he had many of such secrets.

“There rest, if any rest can harbor there: And re-assembling our afflicted powers, Consult how we may henceforth most offend, our enemy; our own loss how repair; how overcome this dire calamity.” The voice of the resplendent angel was clear as the bronze vespers that tolled their demanding voice on mass during a Sunday morning, and his properly held physique walking as proudly as ever he did in a course parallel to the dormitories. The grounds of the academy were darkened with the evening skies, only the moon above lending a wafting lint of moonshine to light the page of his well cared for book. Paradise Lost. A classic of the literary world. One that Kamijo had enjoyed reading upon his first time picking up a copy long ago for curious perusal. Really, there wasn’t a need to hold his gaze to the book, not when he so vividly could recount each stanza by memory. “What reinforcement may we gain from hope; if not, what resolution from despair.”

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#elegance

“The devil is a sly seducer that even Eve could not contain the desire to reach for what was meant to be left untouched.” Seungie’s fingers coiled loosely about themselves once they were ripped from the golden strands, making no effort to invade the fortress of rippling curls once more nor recoil from the firm hand still grasped about her flesh. His eyes though glacial and sharp did not deter the simple, unwavering gaze the elf held steady with his, her thin lips turned upward. “Were I to break your rule when perfection touches perfection?” While the princess may not have been perfect in the sense of her morality, to say she was the perfect outward specimen would not have been a lie. In contrast, where he was brooding and devilishly handsome Seungie glowed with an unnatural radiance, everything about her light and surreal as if she were a living porcelain doll.

“What if I were to touch your wings? Would that be my straight shot to hell?” She was getting far too much amusement out of the other’s disposition, but truthfully she was curious. “I imagine they are even more luxurious than your hair. “If your hair is the forbidden fruit, what would that make your wings?”

The child hereupon spoke of biblical transgressions, what novel turnaround! Few of the generations that had passed beyond the 19th century uttered such tales from the pits of their own wordy ability. Few, it might be added, could even raise a hand to the Holy Word and focus upon each sentence with valiant effort to comprehend, and here stood this meddlesome child with the faintest glimmer of wishfulness who chimed names such as ‘the devil’ and ‘Eve’. How droll! It was such that the golden lion of heaven’s perfect endowment chuckled in tones of rich honey, tones which were so caressing of the ear’s ability to hear. “I have known ‘the devil’ as you so call him, and his crime was never the one wherein God’s second creation was enticed. That Eve fell prey to his enticement, is the only result that could have gone into fruition. You see, Eve was but a human. You seem to hold reverence to the idea that she was perfect in ability, that her standards must have been much more solid than those she chose to disavow. No such qualitative trait existed in her veins. She was only a human, and humans are weak in many regards.”

“Afterthoughts voiced now rather than kept unmentioned,” Kamijo continued without pause enough for a response from this wild female specimen, “It would appear that I stand in comparison to the devil in your eyes. What manner of insult this is to me! I am in no way reminiscent of Lucifer, only reminiscent of holy grandeur that is solely attributed to my own existence. I am Kamijo, I am the Prince that Lucifer was not. I am far more agile in the conquest of liveliness, and far more brilliant as an appearance of light. Lucifer pales in comparison to all that I encompass.”

Kamijo dropped the girl’s hand with little more than the air of one who disposes of unwanted debris. There was no forcefulness or show of extremity in ability. Simple disposal. His perfectly maintained fingernails glimmered in the light, the ends of his talons scraping her knuckles softly as they fell away from his grip. It was not in his nature to appear brooding in any form of the word, only high-held and stately with the nature of brat prince always following his charismatic pompousness. He was not natural, nor explainable. His holy light shone with force of presence and awe-inspiring pigmentation of more than just porcelain skin.

Kamijo’s eyes were harboring mirth now, though the undertones of deep blue kept clear the pressing anchor of iciness. “If you were to touch the wings of one as sacred as I, which remains an impossibility, surely the action would lead you down a path of madness and devotion whereupon your mind would know nothing more than blind admiration. After all, I am the specimen of perfection that all are paled in comparison to. A hellish life would await you, oh yes. My wings are not easily obtained for the touch of greedy hands.”

@seungie-ia

A holiday treat ~ Kamijo x Jieun

king-kamijo

@leejieun-ia Oh she would most definitely agree. A prince of creation he was through and through and she was sure in some foreign land there were probably monuments to his beauty and grace; perhaps that would be her research one day to find what tales existed about the blonde haired angel before her.

Tinted lips stretched into a smile at the long winded sigh that was heaved at her mention of the weather. She knew just how he felt considering how bothersome all the trimmings of winter could be when going out and yet it was her favorite season for that reason. There was nothing quite like dressing up in all the warm clothes ready to confront the winter air as you wandered through your day. Soon enough Kamijo had returned and taking a moment to stare at him she raised her hands giving him a soft round of applause.

“We really, one day must go shopping together. I just would love to see just where you find such fetching articles of clothing because they certainly aren’t to be found at the vintage places I often sift through.” No that coat of his looked hand tailored down to the very last hand tucked seam. It had been years since she’d laid eyes upon such a well made coat. “I do believe you’ll give the women at the coffee shop quite a surprise with your grandeur.” In fact she was quite excited to see the expressions of those around them as they wandered into town. Tugging her gloves back on she flashed a bright grin as she fairly hopped to the door. “Shall we go then? I can hear the warm drinks and pastries calling our names and they seem very eager to make our acquaintance.”

It really was the only appropriate response to bestow upon one so vivaciously stunning as Kamijo. Applause was grand, even now when only a pair of hands were putting together the weak sound that no doubt could be thousand-fold magnified were all the beings of the worlds to applaud his beauty at precisely this time. It was grand, still, and the prince of heaven allowed his figure to inflate to even larger scales of uprightness, if at all such were possible with his already precise posture, and his aura of unabashed pride to drip from every edifice of his being.

“Merci madame, C’est très gentil de votre part.” It was French, and it rolled off the tip of the golden beast’s tongue with such gracious fluidity that one might have fostered for a second the possibility that the fallen son was rather a son of France. Kamijo turned his head flamboyantly to a side, for the better of his visitor to admire the profile of his features just as she did his frontal-pose. “I really am far too magnificent for treading in such haphazard plowing land as this Earthly place.”

Fashion, any decent mention of the topic, sent the fallen beauty into a grand showcase of arms lifting to the sky and falling once more to his sides with such enthusiasm as he spoke. “My dear girl! Why had it not sidestepped through your mind in a much more timely manner? It is my delight to thrust upon you all that which great luxury of proper taste is attainable! Certainly we must venture into this endeavor with no haste! Understood?” A flip of his sensational blond curls sent a great satisfaction through the heavenly brat, and his nose turned up in true aristocratic nature of self-worth above all else. “But of course, would you claim to hold expectations in any other possibility? As if there were any to consider? All that behold my perfection, fall enchanted and awe-stricken. There is no other way.”

A couple of steps led him out the door and into the hallway, motioning with no verbal heeling of his dark sister companion to follow. Rather, he motioned with his hand that she should follow in his example and when her steps had caught pace with his own, another gentle flick of the wrist sent the dormitory door shut with a snap and a click that was indication of proper anti-theft precaution. “I do hope the seasonal beverage is well worth my gracing the establishment. I tell you now that I will not be made to stand in waiting for one such drink should there be a queue already formed. No, I most certainly will not! Such unfitting activity for one as distinguished as I.”

#Kamijo + jieun

📚

📚 for me to grab the book nearest to me, flip to a random page, and use the first line of dialogue I see as a starter @nvh-ia

Royal behind was perched far atop a growing oak, his gleaming presence shining through each patch of leaves that stretched out above, below, and around his figure. Tree-sitting seemed most popular an activity to inhabitants of this institution, and of the earthly playground in wide margin, so the miracle that was Kamijo had found a day in which he would grace mother nature’s growth with his honorable use of tree as a royal throne.

The great vantage of such a position was how marvelously his gaze could fixate upon the lesser beings from far above. Just appropriate for his Seraphic glory, ablaze with much more than simple blood-work. The long legs were crossed at the ankle above the knee whilst his glimmering fingernails worked in efficient manner to adjust the fine lace cravat at his neck.

Below, there were potential worshippers who were in need of awe-inspiring inhalations, and Kamijo was presently willing to provide. “Such a shame,” Kamijo started, “attractive and interesting persons do not simply drop out of the sky.” True to the statement uttered, the lion was gliding fluidly through the air in a horizontal decent to land directly front-facing a young woman. In true dramatically glorious form, Kamijo arrived with arms spread wide on either side, the lush fountain of gold that naturally sprung from his head dancing magically about his shoulders with the rendition of movement.

king-kamijo

Classics « « « Kamijo +

In this world of the modern age, knowledge was a right all individuals were of liberty to indulge. Cases of race, religion, social status, occupation, and gender were no case at all. Not for the sake of filling the head with viable council and a basis to stand upon a wider insight of the world. To stand and breathe was something very akin to using that precious breath of air to inhale the words that provided the mind with enlightened factual intellect. Now, it was only a matter of opinion. To some, undoubtedly, there was an immense fog of utter slothful decline when faced with the option of self-study almost as horridly as there was for required learnings of which society deemed necessary and of the norm for any one individual to receive. Those that stood at the opposite end of the fence, would shake their heads in utter disdain at such foul slugs. Kamijo was one of those who prided the gift of knowledge and held the globe of enlightenment within the palm of his gloved hand, so to speak.

Literacy was a noble pursuit; a pastime that only the intellectually ordained would delight in on a regular basis without thought of ‘Must I?’ or ‘Oh, how I hate reading’. The dimwitted were those that turned a nose up at books. Oh, how Kamijo hated the type. The fallen beauty, perpetually having been so very zealous to the literary arts, had been a grand patron of the consecration of libraries throughout his years. Universities that held lavish and well-stocked buildings of the finest in primary sources for ancient and esteemed texts. All holding the donator’s credit under aliases, of course. Testaments to his generosity for all those who had the backbone to expand their mind further than that of a simple collection of practicalities. Although certainly yet another reason for the angel to brag of his higher class above the rest of the common folk, he much preferred to keep it a silent secret of his very own. Heaven only knew he had many of such secrets.

“There rest, if any rest can harbor there: And re-assembling our afflicted powers, Consult how we may henceforth most offend, our enemy; our own loss how repair; how overcome this dire calamity.” The voice of the resplendent angel was clear as the bronze vespers that tolled their demanding voice on mass during a Sunday morning, and his properly held physique walking as proudly as ever he did in a course parallel to the dormitories. The grounds of the academy were darkened with the evening skies, only the moon above lending a wafting lint of moonshine to light the page of his well cared for book. Paradise Lost. A classic of the literary world. One that Kamijo had enjoyed reading upon his first time picking up a copy long ago for curious perusal. Really, there wasn’t a need to hold his gaze to the book, not when he so vividly could recount each stanza by memory. “What reinforcement may we gain from hope; if not, what resolution from despair.”

#OpenIA

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🎬 for me to use a line from the last movie I watched as a starter 📹 for me to use a line from my favorite movie as a starter 📚 for me to grab the book nearest to me, flip to a random page, and use the first line of dialogue I see as a starter 🎧 for me to shuffle my playlist and use the first line of the next song as a starter 🎶 for me to use my favorite line of the last song I listened to as a starter 📺 for me to use a line from the last TV show I watched as a starter 💻 for me to use a line from my favorite TV show as a starter 🎵for me to shuffle my playlist and use my favorite line of the next song as a starter 😊 for me to make a starter based off the first thing in your wanted plots tag 😉 for me to make a starter based off the first thing in my wanted plots tag 💋 for a shippy starter 😡 for an angsty starter 👊 for an argument/fight starter 🌈 for a random encounter starter 🏩 for a nsfw starter 📫 for a text message starter 💀 for a dark starter 🍬 for a fluffy starter

bonjourhoney

#elegance

Classics « « « Kamijo +

In this world of the modern age, knowledge was a right all individuals were of liberty to indulge. Cases of race, religion, social status, occupation, and gender were no case at all. Not for the sake of filling the head with viable council and a basis to stand upon a wider insight of the world. To stand and breathe was something very akin to using that precious breath of air to inhale the words that provided the mind with enlightened factual intellect. Now, it was only a matter of opinion. To some, undoubtedly, there was an immense fog of utter slothful decline when faced with the option of self-study almost as horridly as there was for required learnings of which society deemed necessary and of the norm for any one individual to receive. Those that stood at the opposite end of the fence, would shake their heads in utter disdain at such foul slugs. Kamijo was one of those who prided the gift of knowledge and held the globe of enlightenment within the palm of his gloved hand, so to speak.

Literacy was a noble pursuit; a pastime that only the intellectually ordained would delight in on a regular basis without thought of ‘Must I?’ or ‘Oh, how I hate reading’. The dimwitted were those that turned a nose up at books. Oh, how Kamijo hated the type. The fallen beauty, perpetually having been so very zealous to the literary arts, had been a grand patron of the consecration of libraries throughout his years. Universities that held lavish and well-stocked buildings of the finest in primary sources for ancient and esteemed texts. All holding the donator’s credit under aliases, of course. Testaments to his generosity for all those who had the backbone to expand their mind further than that of a simple collection of practicalities. Although certainly yet another reason for the angel to brag of his higher class above the rest of the common folk, he much preferred to keep it a silent secret of his very own. Heaven only knew he had many of such secrets.

"There rest, if any rest can harbor there: And re-assembling our afflicted powers, Consult how we may henceforth most offend, our enemy; our own loss how repair; how overcome this dire calamity." The voice of the resplendent angel was clear as the bronze vespers that tolled their demanding voice on mass during a Sunday morning, and his properly held physique walking as proudly as ever he did in a course parallel to the dormitories. The grounds of the academy were darkened with the evening skies, only the moon above lending a wafting lint of moonshine to light the page of his well cared for book. Paradise Lost. A classic of the literary world. One that Kamijo had enjoyed reading upon his first time picking up a copy long ago for curious perusal. Really, there wasn’t a need to hold his gaze to the book, not when he so vividly could recount each stanza by memory. “What reinforcement may we gain from hope; if not, what resolution from despair.”

#classics

@thomas-ia What he sensed from the other, behind the masks he wore. It was terrifying in a way. He was no angel- not in the literal sense of the word and Thomas distrusted him, what had caused the other to lose his wings he wondered? Biblical stories came to mind but the witch had never paid much attention to those.

“Fuck-” The creature suddenly appeared next to him and Thomas stumbled to the side, tripping over his long legs and landing on the ground. Right hand stained in crimson as he looked up at the man. “You are no glory.” He spat, pupils slightly dilated in fear. He would heal, of course, he never scarred. Yet he was sure the other was able to do worse.

“You are far from it, you are just another monster.”

Witnessing demise never hailed too far from the sentiment of satisfaction. Kamijo knew it only as the unyielding result of seeds sowed many a decade long past. His mythopoetic fall had been tragic yet full of grace and brilliance. Seeing the downward tumble of another whilst setting such stage, well, it was the cruelty of displacement that he savored.

In any event, was it not in his royal sovereignty that he condemn all who were unworthy of his very gaze? Leader of Seraphim, Right hand of the Lord our Father, Creation of Perfection - had he not also accumulated the title of Unwritten Beast, Deathly proud Lion, Condescending Prince? In the present moment, this angel plucked from royal thrones in places high above, certainly typified the image of a royal terror, beast-like as described in the book of Revelation.

Kamijo heard not the words of dissuasion, rather felt the glow of Seraphiel heating the mortal organs which encumbered his fleshly body of perfection. It was his true glory, burning from within and illuminating through the flesh in a twisted fashion as one might imagine when heavenly light fits to melt away the worldly dullness that keeps it contained. It was him all the same, beautiful and perfect, yet with the threat of a blinding light to set all aflame.

“Had you not learned the written word of man in Bibles throughout time? ‘The beast that thou sawest, was, and is not; and shall ascend out of the bottomless pit, and go into perdition: and they that dwell on the earth shall wonder, whose names were not written in the book of life from the foundation of the world, when they behold the beast that was, and is not, and yet is.’” The words were spoken slowly, deliberately, with the force of a great orator.

Steps forward led him to the fallen creature at his feet, helpless and fearful that the creature was, and he stopped short of lifting his sword once more to flesh. “Remember well, the monster of heaven’s highest rank. Glory blessed you once tonight, marked with the imprint of that visitation whose right you had not earned.”

#kamijo + thomas

@signumdeivivi “Needful, alone might I become so overthrown with mine demand; covetous for love — these arms ‘round mine lost frame when vagrant from thine forms do I so stray. Gifts, alone come those unveiled from ‘neath the nocturne’s kiss left ‘pon me by thine saviour’s lips…”

“Find solace in silence now, dear lover of mine, and find the inspiration now to fall unto me with eyelids closing out the sights of your perfect lion.” A hand would then pass, one possessing of brilliantly kept nail beds and the magnificent antique ring long ago gifted him by this scarlet wonder who’s birthday they today celebrated, over Kisaki’s eyes in endeavor to persuade them closed. “When it is that you no longer see my brilliance, your gift shall decent.”

#signumdeivivi

Phantasm, come to him! – command now such transcendental and empyrean courts and castles ‘mid an aerial figment arranged ‘pon the very lineaments becoming that which was his trembling form; heat, incandescence – strike ‘pon the earthbound and momentous phenomenon of fevered skin, hiss ‘neath the searing inconclusiveness and breathtaking gingerliness coming yonder, coming nether to such astonishing and frightening distraughtness that spoke within his beating heart. Write ‘pon him! – poetize such love with parching lips ‘pon his burning frame and lie naked the words with which his everlastingly consumed soul strikes the summoning of passionate chimes resonating from each corner and crevasse he left resigned to the very angel governing him whole.

Of that which enflames this love below his weight, how could he not know? Sonnets of adornment and sweet sweet liveliness give now validity to the life that two who are one share with one another. Part of one another. With one another. How to find vocal tones of expressiveness for these blushing and hard-breathed sonnets? How, when all that could be said was now unabashedly caught in the lion’s throat, blocked off by the persuasion of more heated kisses being planted at current upon shoulders left and right in turn.

#signumdeivivi

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