[luctumvigilantes]

“Be the things, you loved most about the people who are gone.”

INDEPENDENT and SEMI-SELECTIVE roleplay blog for Atris, a Priest of the Dead belonging to the Mourn Watch of Nevarra; indebted to the Necropolis for sparing his life and giving it purpose.

A quiet exploration of mourning and grief, of personal depression and difficulties finding ones sense of self.

|| ASK || RULES || BIOGRAPHY || - - Follows back from @dryadalismagicae

[luctumvigilantes]

He has the sads.

[luctumvigilantes]

been thinking how the necropolis definitely dips its toes into quantum entanglement.

[luctumvigilantes]

superpostition, definitely.

[luctumvigilantes]

been thinking how the necropolis definitely dips its toes into quantum entanglement.

[quantumstargazer]

Ward listens attentively, their brow furrowing in thought as they contemplate Vorgoth's cryptic warnings with the new information Atris shares with them. They can't quite manage to mask their frustration as they still feel like some key part of the puzzle is being kept from them, their desire to learn everything they possibly can being denied once more — through no fault of Atris, they know, even as they sigh in frustrated disappointment.

Looking up at Atris as he turns back to smile at them, their blush deepens, pale gaze going wide as they freeze, seeming to forget themself for a moment before shyly smiling back at him, following closely still. But something in what he says has a subtle excitement returning to them, their fingers flexing in their grip on their staff as a knowing look enters their eyes.

"I understand — I have spent my entire life under Vorgoth's care and guidance," they note in quiet bemusement. "Most tend to forget my presence, even when I was following Vorgoth around the Necropolis as they saw to their duties."

A touch of mischief lights their eyes then, the only hint of a warning before they intone in a startlingly accurate impression of their guardian, "NOT ALL EYES MUST SEE. NOT EARS MUST HEAR. NOT ALL MOUTHS MUST SPEAK." With that, they flash a rare, cheeky grin up at him. "I will gladly accept any knowledge you can freely give. And should I learn even more beyond that still, I am bound by my oaths to never speak of the knowledge to anyone who is not the one I learned it from."

There are... exceptions, of course, but even then, it is only when the safety and security of those they are sworn to protect are at risk, and then it is only Vorgoth who is to be told what they learned, no matter how they came to possess the knowledge. But all the same... "What I mean to say is I am quite familiar with being denied answers, if only due to my current rank. It is... frustrating, at times, I'll admit, but then, I rarely see senior Watchers who Knowledge and Wisdom welcome for discussions as often as I have been, even as a child."

[luctumvigilantes]

Atris cannot help the small laugh that emerges from his throat at the rather grand impression of Vorgoth; he may have spent precious little time alongside the...being... over the years but their paths had crossed some few times while Atris was a youth under the protection of his Father. Less, nowadays, given that the priest was often rather deep within the Necropolis and he wasn't the head of their little order. Atris takes pause after a moment, just listening for a moment, a habit borne of one of whom is used to such levels of darkness. He can hear whispers, but he doesn't hear aught too close that would bare an issue for either of them and thus he deems it safe enough for the two of them to continue. Regardless of the task at hand, Atris had every intention of keeping his company safe while they were down there.

"...I hear shuffling." He noted, eyeing the wisp that came darting back to their location; the companion that was always seen around Atris of whom they'd sent off to scout ahead at the beginning of their expedition. "--and Craig, my friend- have you found aught?" He scarce needed to ask for the wisp whipped around his head once, their companion thrice and then headed back down the dark hallway, choosing to take a left at the cross-section in the hall.

"It would seem..." Atris smiles toward Ward, offering a flourish of a hand to guide them forwards; "...that we finally have a mark, at least."

[quantumstargazer]

Ward reaches out to help steady him, only to freeze with their hand just shy of touching, fingers flexing uncertainly as a blush colours their cheeks and ears. While they've certainly improved with dealing with the living — at least where the ones in the Mourn Watch itself are concerned — they still have moments like these, uncertain of what is and isn't acceptable without being told, and it shows now in their hesitation as they look up at him.

All the same, there is one thing that they are certain of, even if their own words cause their blushing to deepen as they admit, "You are always welcome, Atris. I would not have made the offer, if I were not willing to have you there." Other than Vorgoth, few had ever even seen their personal quarters, much less been inside them, other than the spectral cats that their guardian has let them tend to over the years — a small army of which still coming and going from the entity's apartments for so long as Ward remains, and neither of them seem to be in any hurry for them to move into their own space, as it would move them to where the others of their rank are usually provided housing, rather than letting them stay close.

But they pause as he tries to deflect, their pale gaze narrowing then as they note a little more sharply, "Don't do that — don't lie to me. If I ask you something you do not wish to answer, simply tell me so. I will understand, even if I don't necessary like it. I do know I am not allowed to know everything, no matter how curious I might be. Just don't lie to me and try to say you're fine when clearly you are not..."

Shaking their head in frustration, they start to head for the exit of this hall, mentally plotting the route necessary to reach Vorgoth's apartments since the last time the Necropolis decided to rearrange its halls. "I don't have many friends — living ones, I mean — but I do count you among those few that I have," they murmur quietly as they walk, keeping a close eye on him even as they also watch for trouble.

"I'm not even used to having friends... Some thought me a ghost when I was a child, because I was so shy, even as I followed Vorgoth about on their duties when I had barely even learned to walk, often taking to hiding in their robes to keep from being seen. And as I grew older, to where I began understanding the whispers of rumours being told... One of the reasons I'm even allowed the patrols in the deeper parts of the Necropolis than most of my rank is because of how easily I can apparently 'disappear' — it's as though people struggle to remember that I was even there at all. It made making friends... difficult, to say the least."

Silvery-white eyes look up at Atris with obvious fondness, even if they are a bit exasperated with him at the moment. "But I have never felt forgotten by you, and I..." They avert their gaze once more, using the need to keep watch as an excuse, even as their ears near burn with how hot their flustered embarrassment has grown in the moment with their admissions. "I appreciate your friendship. More than I know how to truly express. So yes, you are always welcome. And should you need me for anything, you only need to ask..."

[luctumvigilantes]

"...I'm fine, as far the standards I was taught." Atris admitted, though he supposed by the view of others, he was certainly not doing well. The sheer structure of his exhaustion was present, gnawing away at the confines of his ribs, weighing down the muscles of his legs, setting up roots in the marrow of his bones. It was a state of tired that he couldn't describe, couldn't hope to explain - so he didn't try.

As the two of them walked through the long, dark hallway - Atris listened to every word they said, the weight of his heart suddenly feeling heavier. The priest himself wasn't one to seek much company, certainly not of the living - he preferred the quiet of solitude where he was asked no questions he couldn't answer. He wasn't always so, however - - prior to the accident that had altered his perception on existence when younger, he had been rather outgoing and chatty when the moment called for it.

That being said - Atris did have a very small circle of friends that were human, and expanded when one considered his cat and Craig the wisp, who was still moving frantically above his head - moving betwixt the priest and Ward as if it knew they were there to help.

"I'm... glad that you never felt forgotten by me, despite my... terrible tracking of time. I don't check in as often as I ought to and I am sorry for that-" He would have to do better, especially after learning that Ward was rather similar to himself socially. Perhaps he could find a way of asking Craig to remind him, somehow.

"The sentiment does go both ways... I'm sure, should you need me for any reason, you needs to only call for Craig. He would be able to lead you to me, or me to you." A comfort to know, in truth, and the wisp in their company seemed to agree.

[quantumstargazer]

@luctumvigilantes sent: "You truly needn't worry." Atris murmured, his bare hands idly rubbing his face ere dropping to his lap. He's slouched, shoulders rolled forwards and evidently tense - his entire form suggesting utter and intense exhaustion. "If a priest isn't exhausted then he isn't doing his job properly"

"No," Ward argues stubbornly, their pale gaze narrowing in a rare show of defiance, uncaring of rank as they glare up at Atris for even suggesting such a thing. "You do not get to decide that for me — I will not ignore a friend simply because he outranks me."

They know there are plenty of Senior Watchers who will no doubt disapprove, but right now, none of them matter to Ward. "We're hours away from the priests' quarters," they note, frowning at the thought. "Vorgoth's are closer — you may rest in my room until you have recovered your strength."

Getting there is still going to be no easy task, but... "I am no spirit healer, but I will do what I can to hopefully give you enough stamina to get you that far..." They won't state the obvious, that should the pair come across trouble on the way, Ward will need to be ready to fight to defend them both. "I would rather we not have to learn if I can carry you that far unless we have no other choice — but I am not leaving here without you under any circumstance, so do not dare to even think about suggest such a thing, Atris."

But underlining all of their defiant stubbornness is genuine concern, their fingers once more play over the scarring on the backs of their own hands with the unspoken anxiety it brings them. "Will you let me do what I can for you?" they ask quietly, silvery-white eyes watching the older elf closely. "Then mayhaps you can tell me why you felt the need to wear yourself so thin, duties or no." They don't even want to think about what might have befallen him had they not been there as they are now.

[luctumvigilantes]

Atris raises his pale gaze upward, a softness housed in the glaze that had long situated over the colourless poise of his iris'. Frankly, he couldn't recall the last time someone had told him no, forced him to pause and put his own health an state of being first as opposed to his position and the demands it gave him.

His head dips, a breath eased out from lungs with a restriction that steadied himself for the walk ahead. He'd not have gotten to this point if he had put more time towards resting and taking better care of himself, but the way he had been raised had instilled values of the opposite into him; work comes first. Your tasks come first. Your position comes first. How viciously that had backfired.

Atris flexed his fingers around his staff, forcing himself to his feet using it's stature to lean on. The support was truly welcome, his aching legs and sheer exhaustion needing all of the support it could get.

"I wouldn't wish to intrude-" Having said that, however, he was also not wanting to say no given how Ward was looking at him with a particular flavour of sternness that he didn't wish to challenge. The way he slouches his shoulders instantly explains his silent relent, accepting the offer of help wordlessly. "I'm... merely tired." Atris attempted to deflect the curiosity toward why he oft worked himself to the bone, until the searing point of exhaustion. The reality was - it was simply because of how he was raised, to put his work ahead of himself; that, and lingering silence and stillness meant he would drift into his own thoughts and that was not a place to be enjoyed. Misery and emptiness crept up in the silence and the darkness - - and Atris would sooner work himself to collapse than allow it to catch up to him while he was yet conscious.

"Lead the way-" He utters, keeping to his promise of relenting - in following to rest for a time, at least; to recover enough to head home. Even the wisp that lingered near his head seemed eager for the priest to return to somewhere far more safe that current surrounds, and thus he continues his slow walk in accompaniment to Ward.

[wonderful-rp-resources]

SEND “⚡️” AND A QUESTION AND MY MUSE WILL BE FORCED TO ANSWER HONESTLY

Please specify the muse for multimuse blogs.

[luctumvigilantes]

OOC: Gonna try and get to replies in a little while - - my brain is just feeling really fizzy lately and I can't concentrate for shit. :')

[luctumvigilantes]

Like for an ask?

[luctumvigilantes]

Like for an ask?

[scholarofgloom]

[druidstone]

[longhairvixen]

[druidstone]

Black Grail Art

[v7blue]

[quantumstargazer]

A shiver wracks their small frame as the temperature drops, their brow furrowing at the change in atmosphere as they follow close on the priest's heels. Despite their youth and the newness of their position within the Watch, Ward doesn't shy away from stepping into the unknown, their silvery-white eyes watchful as they look around with insatiable curiosity.

"But why?" they ask, even as they follow Atris' lead with taking their staff in hand, turning their gaze towards him as they seek answers. "What purpose could they have that would compel them to behave in such a manner?"

They frown at the thought, a quiet huff of frustration escaping them as they try to find a satisfying understanding. "When most corrupted spirits seek to possess someone, it is typically to be able to experience the world more fully in a way they cannot from the other side of the Veil, is it not? But they do not necessarily seek to destroy their host in the process — even abominations, from what I understand, are often still themselves until true moments of desperation, usually when they risk destruction at the hands of templars, going by the reports of such from the south."

All the same, even they cannot find fault in the warnings given, and so that much they accept without question, while the nature of these whispers still bothers them. "It will be as you say, Atris," they offer softly, even now staying close, putting aside their own curiosity to explore the unfamiliar areas of the Necropolis in order to obediently fulfil their own appointed purpose in this task.

"How are you so familiar with these whispers? That is... if it is not too much to ask?" they ask, a blush colouring their cheeks and ears as they realise belatedly how their own curiosity might seem to come off as rude in the moment. "You do not have to answer, if you do not wish to... I do not mean to be rude — I will not press if you do not wish to speak of it."

[luctumvigilantes]

"...Their purpose is to very gradually possess a person, slip in betwixt doubts and concerns. That way, few will detect it and once they have possession of the body, they feed on the soul and grow stronger." Atris explains as they move, attempting to be brief but detailed enough to be of use; "-- with the intention of seeking greater levels of power. To cause harm, to manipulate, to twist. Our only theory is that they are formed when someone dies of whom has held much bitterness. That sense lives on in its own way. But it is only a theory."

"The priests quarters are down here." He explains gently, briefly turning his pace gaze to company to offer up a soft smile; "Whispers target us rather frequently." Because of the knowledge they held, because of the power they wielded, because of the secrets they guarded - and because they were the closest to their usual stomping grounds, so to speak. "..I admit, the first time one of them reached me, whispered in my ear with one of their disjointed voices... I was tempted. We all learn to put up with them and ward them off early on lest we succumb. It's part of the job."

"...As away. I don't mind the questions." Atris could remember being curious, remember chasing every possibility of learning more; few had afforded him the time, and thus he wanted to be different when the possibility presented itself. "There's plenty I can't talk about, of course- but if I can---." Then he would.