O' DARK SUN

you're a villainous thing

[kyourantou]

voidspoken​:

❝   —   shut up. i have no need to hear the lies of a false god. mind what you say, you clown.   ❞

eyebrows furrow as she continues to stare, uncaring for whether or not it would be considered ‘rude’, or that her biting words would surprise most   (   but clearly not this jester, unusual as he was   ).   he is strange, sirin thinks, and it isn’t just his clothing. from a glance, the man appeared to be human, but when examined closer, she sees he is a mixing pot of different, distinctive energies. there is something human within, a trace of humanity potent enough to make her stomach lurch, but only a fragment buried beneath other murkier, inhuman auras that were overpowering in comparison to any lingering mortality. 

the voice in her head remains silent, the whispers of her soul muted where they otherwise would sing of her god’s desires   (   how she wishes she could ask her god for guidance   ),   and sirin knows she must find her own answers.   ❝   … you live next to me, and so i’ve been wondering   —   what are you? you’re not human.   ❞  

“Goodness gracious, what sharp words! You wound me so.” But all their tone seems to convey is giddiness and mocking, no movement of real surprise found in those dark eyes. There’s sweet irony in being called anything close to a false god, for all the numerous divinities they’ve sewn into their Saint Graph, devoured whole or not. What a joke - a hardly laughable one at that.

From the mouth of babes indeed.

“Hmmm? Hmmm! Huhu, a good question. For conversation sake, let us skip over the unnecessary details and say... Nnn, yes, I am something like a ghost. Or maybe like a curse.” Or a caricature, or a shadow. Perspective depends wholly on the observer as to what he really is ( and who knows, truly? Not even he does, or cares to these days ). There’s something sharp in the way Limbo smiles; the point of a canine shown in a momentary flash. But it’s all in good humour, or the closest a thing like he can some to. “A thing once human, but only vaguely so, and less so now. Does that suffice as an answer?”

[kyourantou]

shikokus​:

     ✦ Finding herself in an entirely different world and a situation where her positions seems anything but advantageous, her first order of business is gathering intel and thinking of her options. First of all, though this seems similar to the world of humans, she’s already realized how many inhuman things seem to inhabit the island, amongst which she would count herself.

     Second of all, her powers as a god have been severely limited. If such wasn’t an insult already, her attempt to test these limitations resulted in a less than ideal situation. Most of all – the mocking tone of someone lowly. With the distance of her teleportation set to what it is, she sees no issue with using one more for the day, dissolving back into the ground and emerging from it once more, this time properly ( though with a small pile of snow stuck atop her head ).

     “And what makes this humble priest think so?” Even if he were to extend a helping hand, she obviously has no need for such a thing.

Ah, how disappointing to have her slip just beyond hand’s reach. But a fitting thing nevertheless, to see a snake slither just so. The movies earn a soft hum of interest, though certainly not approval. A quiet, intense stare is equally levelled at the tuff atop her head, but little is said on the matter ( sans a smile, devilishly cruel like all the others ).

“Hmmm? Why? NNNN, naturally so, because very few would stop as I did. This humble servant of Buddha would never leave someone in distress.” It’s a twist of the obvious facts, as easy as he twists a smile. For as easily as he found her, he’d made absolutely no move to offer any form of assistance beyond words. But, well, she hadn’t asked - or so he’d say, if asked the question of why. He can be just as slithery, if not more so than the average snake.

“--Or would you have preferred to stay in the snow, as you were? Snakes are cold blooded if I recall. Certainly it would have been uncomfortable.” Though it comes as little of a surprise, he certainly hopes it was.

[kyourantou]

Could this be a of reunion of a sort? A heartfelt meeting between two comrades, co-workers, cohorts, of a kind? Unlikely. Very unlikely indeed. This is not Rasputin. This is not an Alter ego or Apostle or even a Servant, for that matter. This man is only a man, in the end. 

A man with a very particular sense of something - though he can’t quite pinpoint, the taste is sweet and dark all the same. Curious, quite curious indeed. Though he does share the intense, near- empty gaze he’d come to know from his fellow Apostle. Ah, how disgustingly nostalgic.

“Dedication to one’s faith so far from home is an admirable thing. NNN, more so in a place where you are the only one to recognise its importance. Wouldn’t you say, priest?” But whether he means it with sincerity is another thing entirely.

@kxrei​

[opendoorlorien]

pest control

[kyourantou]

The festivities have begun to wind down, slow but steady with each passing day. Even so, people cling to the last of their revelry; a minor, thoughtless action to keep some hold on the old, known ways ( or simply for the fun of it, but he never once considers such an option ). There’s no escape from such things, but neither does he feel the need to join such activities. So he simply slinks and slithers between this and that, observing as one does ( or can manage, when they’re bordering on two meters tall ).

Watching is easier said then done, however. Least of all for him who is --  ( eccentric and horrible in equal parts ) - something not so easily missed. Well, most of the time. Among trees, anything is possible; including the bauble and tinsel hanging from his hair, and the girl looking to place more on him.

“Huhu, so sorry to disappoint, but I am not a tree, nor do I need any more decorations.” Though he does look particularly striking as a Christmas tree, honestly.

@codecasts​

[kyourantou]

“NNNN, the utter impertinence of it all.” It’s no more than a bell, a bauble by any other standard; but a bauble of his. Nevermind the sanctity of a Servant’s attire, nor what horrible dark energies he’s concealed in such a small thing - the fact remains is that it’s his, and it is gone. Missing! Disappeared! ( Stolen? No, who’d dare? )

“Aha--” There it is, beheld between the fingers of another. And there is goes, lifted from those dainty fingers by things too sharp to be called nails, but too human to be claws. “That would be mine. Personal belongings, regardless of how small, become treasures in such foreign lands.” The bell returns to where it rightfully belongs - neither on the ground, nor a stranger’s hand, but tethered to the jester’s hair. 

“Ahh, but please pardon me.” He’s not polite, but he can manage something of a semblance to it for appearance’s sake. “You have this priest’s highest thanks in finding it!”

@electromight​

[kyourantou]

“Huhu. It’s rude to stare so harshly, child.” He’s been beneath the baleful gaze of this small girl for the past several minutes now, not a word uttered between them. Well, if girl can be an applicable word for such a creature - ink black aura like an eclipse, burning bright and hellishly hot. A thing not unlike an Avenger, but equally foreign even to him.

How nice, how sweet it is compared to the other children, meandering around the place; quiet, thoughtful, playfully ignorant. 

Smile faux and sharp, he lays it on thick and sweet; fangs hidden for the time being. Aura or not, she’s still just a child, and children are the ( oddly ) accepting sort. “Aha, perhaps I’ve something on my face? Or you need something of me? Hoh, could it be that you need my assistance! Yes, yes, you are more than free to ask for this humble priest’s help if you so desire it, huhu.”

@voidspoken​

[kyourantou]

Loathe the festivities. Loathe the carols, and the endless sweets, and the immense cheer that seem to pervade everything. But above all else, loathe the swathes of snow that falls in eternal torrents across the accursed island, blanketing everything in white. To say he was having a time would be an understatement. It’s certainly not a good time like a high percentage of others, indulging in their winter wonderland dreams. No, no, the complete opposite!

Loathe it, curse it, crush it; remove the head of one of those hapless snowmen, curse it some more. Down, down, down spirals his thoughts on the entire holiday ( and the island, and it’s inhabitants ) until they, too, come crashing down. Not with something resounding, but the sound of something smacking him firm on the back of the head; followed by the pervasive cold that he’s come to know all too well from the weather.

“NNNN. Snow, snow, of all things, snow. To attack this humble priest in such a manner. How unkind of you, Avenger!”

@ordertorn​

[kyourantou]

An endless crunch of snow heralds the swift steps of someone trying haplessly to escape the endless volume of festival cheer. It’s irritating, invasive, an inexcusable insult atop of everything else he must put up with today ( below this, the mocking replacements for shikigami that do nothing but stick ). Then, the sound of snow is replaced by a small, broken hiss.

One snake, two snake, three snake; four. Five snakes, and many more. It’s a rife bouquet of serpents, bound and born from the inky blackness spread across the snow and underfoot. Though, on closer inspection, it’s not an abstract thing but something vaguely human, half-buried beneath the ice; still breathing despite the cold. “Hoh--.”

“Huhu. How amusing. Most assuredly, you are in luck that I, a humble priest, were the first to find you.” Not that he’s doing much to help, mind.

@shikokus​ /  🐍

[viridiia]

One day I’ll get his outfit, but until then

[kyourantou]

nya-- i mean yes ‘ello, here is a small starter call, capped at three (3). castmates are purrfectly welcome over the cap

[kyourantou]

limbo ashiya douman / fate

the paralysis demon that haunts all of your nightmares, aka your (un)friendly neighbourhood monster clown

though he goes by the name of ashiya douman, he’s closer to a distorted caricature representing all of douman’s hate and envy - something less than human, and more like a living curse

a highly skilled practitioner of onmyoudo, though instead of banishing spirits he excels in curses. for shits and giggles he likes summoning heroic spirits and twisting them into genocidal murder puppets. good for a laff 

was technically employed by the mysterious alien god, and spent most of his time 1) eating gods, 2) laughing at gods, 3) refusing to die through savescumming 4) general clownery

had the bright idea of becoming an evil of humanity, and came || this close, except for one very important detail: to be a true beast, one needs a (twisted) sense of love for humanity. *slaps him* this babey has none, and everything went to hell because of it

and despite all this, is technically still able to be summoned by our lovely protagonist, but it’s fine because he’s faking amnesia totally reformed! completely! 

[kyourantou]

SEIMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEI