*MOTHER / SOUL

dash-only——& indepedent, selective. The Elder Scroll's ✷ AZURA ☽, MOTHER OF THE ROSES, PRINCE OF DUSK AND DAWN as told by NIKÉT.

[numb-shit-deactivated20230802]

[mctherstarlight-blog]

     Her voice earned nothing, the void where his soul rested silent; the air tainted with a long-standing bitterness. Eyes closing, opening, closing, he remained still within this place between life and death as if the Daedra would vanish with time. The scent was nearly alien, something besides the deathly smell of decay and oil within his plane intoxicating. A loud hiss of steam erupted from a set of pipes, shifting the body on its thin razor-like wires that connected its skin to the ceiling. Blood and hair resting below in clumps, once snowy white they had turned a wretched yellow with splotches of soft pink A god once found handsome in his form now falling apart with only the passage of time.

      ❝ Os jikhim ohl bahr'zuil.❞

     The words had left him before he thought, the words followed by an eerie silence. There a great bitterness rested in his words, it felt hollow. An empty threat.      Would he refuse to return this pain to her?       His ears twitched, hearing her command, yet he did not move. The silence remained for some time, how much none knew, before he rose from his place tentively. His being stood before the doorway to her realm, gazing in without expression, each step slow and solemn as he finally step within her portal into the haunting beauty of Moonshadow. A deep breath, masking a slight shake to his voice,

     ❝ You have brought me to your realm, Prince of Dusk and Dawn, and yet you speak not of your reasoning. ❞

✷ A FOOLISH CHOICE OF APPROACH,                    even for you, Grand Inventor.                    Azura waited a thousand years                    for the prophecy of the Nerevar                    She would wait A THOUSAND MORE                    till you walked past the doors to Moonshadow.                    Time is inconsequential to one such as a *DAEDRA                    But she knows your has ran out.                    The sand, the oil, the blood: it spills, it spills, it spills.

❝No more GAMES, Sotha Sil.❞ Before him, a palace of pure silver and sprawling rose vines that seemingly grew from nowhere and everywhere: a vast saloon of mirrors in every wall, with nothing but a timid, simple round table to which Azura sat in her gracious—praise the mother soul!—dunmeri form, sipping tea from a ceramic cup. The table had only one extra seat directly across hers. Some things are implied, some self-explanatory. Is there a difference between the two concepts? Perhaps you could ask her. Perhaps you are too proud to ask; to think you know better. Ignorant boy, you NEVER knew better, you never knew better, you never knew better. ❝The reasoning is so simple, Sotha Sil: your anticipation has patiently waited the much anticipated day she reclaim a trivial little thing she lost. It, if by coincidence, came upon your possession. I have brought you to my real to retrieve it—no, no, no! I am mistaken.❞ Azura summons a second ceramic cup, already filled with scented rose tea, steaming warm and gentle upon the table, with scorpion-grass flowers adorned all around the saucer. 

❝I merely willed us to talk.❞ This could be considered an euphemism, at any rate. ❝A QUESTION: in all your wisdom, Sotha Sil, you did not possibly ever think yourself ‘free’, did you? Free from your fate? Free from me? From yourself?❞ ☽

[mctherstarlight-blog]

✷ ABYSS AND STARLIGHT,                  the mother soul comes to claim her revenge.                  abyss and starlight,                  the lies the falsehood the pretending is no more.                  abyss and starlight,                  the colors the soul of SEHT had been seeing a long time ago.

❝Sotha Sil❞ a voice calls to him, yet not to him but directly to his soul, from somewhere unknown, somewhere warm perhaps. From the dark side of the moon. ❝Grand Inventor of the Clockwork City. You have something you borrowed; it is time time to return it to me. It is impolite to keep *FATE / prophecy waiting.❞ And perhaps Sotha Sil would like to discuss his DEATH with a hot cup of tea. A door to Moonshadow opens, in gleaming silver where the wind blows through the cracks; an intoxicating scent of roses. Of violet eyes seeing far and beyond. Foolish little boy, you talk & you lie & you craft brass walls in your own pocket of existence to keep her away, deep beneath the soiled earth and tainted ruins of the blasphemous Dwarves. Yet your soul has always been Dunmer through and through, the love of your people, its pride and strength, and Azura has always been your MOTHER SOUL. All those years ago, all those years ago, all those years ago. 

❝Enter now, Sotha Sil. Where the light is infinite and time is so finite.❞ ☽

[mctherstarlight-blog]

gezelligheiid‌:

@mctherstarlight replied to your post:

seht+inevitable death that she has foreseen is azura’s favorite ship fksjd

     “You know, for a mother spirit, you really are a bitch.”

❝I’m not the villain here; I read but don’t make fate. Maybe if you’d kept better company, Seht? Indoril wouldn’t stab you in the back while you’re hooked up to your VR Gaming set Very Serious And Important Clockwork Machine.❞

[loveryarose]

[iamgodmode]

[mctherstarlight-blog]

gezelligheiid‌:

@mctherstarlight replied to your post:

cough cough hENLO

     i don’t want ur daedra scout cookies pls leave my property thank

fklsajdkaljd azura be like, the only thing ur anticipating is the day youll catch these HANDS fool

[mazurga]

By Dawn and Dusk, evil creeps through the shadows of my beloved Vvardenfell. But an Outlander arrives to aid my people, just as I have foreseen.

[mctherstarlight-blog]

pahdormah replied to your post: pahdormah‌: aka : kills somebody with the...

BOTH

ok but like he might be big top energy but what about........ double head

[mctherstarlight-blog]

pahdormah‌:

aka : kills somebody with the power of his bottoming

aka : oh … this is why i top.

@mctherstarlight

I”M still deciding if this is a shitpost or a callout post @ me fkljasdjl

[septimdynasty]

“Time is heavy sometimes; imagine how heavy eternity must be.”

— E.M Cioran, The Book of Delusions (via pastizche)

[mctherstarlight-blog]

wcrshiipme‌:

starter for @mctherstarlight from mephala

“Sister,” she hisses, great black robes billowing behind her. “Have you heard?” It is another little lie, no doubt, something she does often. She is almost gleeful as she approaches her sister, Azura, eyes lighting up in the moonlight plane.

“I hear the Greymarch is happening soon. Jyggalag will be back soon. I fear I do not know which is worse—Sheogorath’s madness or Jyggalag’s pompousness. I do believe I will keep my nose out of this march.” No. She absolutely would not. She never did.

✷ DID YOU NOW, SISTER—            perhaps this evaded the DAEDRIC            *PRINCE / princess of FATE & PROPHECY?

Azura will entertain the Spinner of Webs & Lies alike; and who knows? The Fates of Daedra and Aedra are, if one is cautious, protected from meddlesome fingers by bones older their own, and in the very least, from the passively curious eyes of Azura. 

❝Well, sister, it is inconsequential if he does. Jyggalag shall restore Order to his plane, then transform back into Sheogorath. Then the blabbering fool will—what? Whatever is it he does. Eat cheese, curse mortals into hens?❞ Azura raised her gentle left hand, three glittering silver rings on each of her central fingers: one crested with a moon, another with a star, and the third with a rose. A cup of rose-fragrant tea weaves itself from porcelain and silver into her finger, and she sips before rolling her twilight-eyes, gigging dismissively of Mephala’s blatantly false statement. ❝Oh sister! I doubt that very much. You know you: you toy and mar with the affairs of others all the time.❞ And look who’s talking, Mother of the Roses.

[mctherstarlight-blog]

rsdaynia‌:

             ‘  YOU’VE  BETRAYED  ME .   ‘      voice  little  more  than  a  harsh  whisper ,    he  takes  his  ring  blessed  by  her ,    &    throws  it  into  the  blistering  maw  of  the  red  mountain .      ‘   you’ve  made  me  kill  the  one  closest  to  me !     you’ve  brought  me  back  into  this  cursed  life !   for  what ?    your  amusement ?    take  your  moon    &   star ,    i  wish  to  be  your  puppet  no  longer !  ‘

@mctherstarlight  /  clicked !

✷ OH, SWEET NEREVAR—            the Mother Soul heard your prayer here,            atop FIRE AND BRIMSTONE that boils dormant yet            under Red Mountain of her beloved Vvardenfell            and she came. Isn’t that a privilege, Nerevar?

❝Come, SERA, that is untrue. I know it for I have foreseen it in the threads of twilight. But... I think you know it, too.❞ Ashen skin and reddened eyes to match her old Champion (would he even the remember the golden Chimer if not for [...]), and                                                   Azura looks gently to her Hero of all Resdayn—— Resdayn? Oh, that must have a lifetime ago. Not that she would understand. ❝Don’t you? Voryn Dagoth was gone for a very long time. I suppose you were, too, Indoril. But he was... a different kind of gone. THE POWER OF MADNESS, or perhaps it was the madness for power.❞

Beneath her, deep within the entrails of Red Mountain, the Ring of Azura burns, ignites, and melts without a trace. Her possessions mattered very little; soon, they all fade back into twilight. It was the Nerevar’s shaken faith and [...] that made Azura cry a single tear. A heavy, liquid droplet of pure silver down her left eye, to which he quickly wiped with her hand, staining her ashen skin with specks of silver. Tragedy is paint on canvas.

❝You are not my puppet, Nerevar.❞ Notice the emphasis on the wrong word, if wrong means it is true. ❝I do not write *FATE / PROPHECY, but I know the bittersweet Sea at which the rivers of fate all converge at and wash away at completion.❞ She gently traces her index across the Nerevar’s cheek, not for her own reassurance, but for his. ❝It is... not over, Nerevarine. You have laid the Sixth House to rest—daggers & spikes to your back, the jagged edges of a STAR—but the times ahead are even more trying. You will preserve your heart in this life, and shatter yours in the last. Not all that is golden glitters, Nerevar.❞ ☽

[crownroyalebag]

[wcrshiipme-blog]

𝙳𝙸𝙿 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙾 𝙰𝙴𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝚄𝚂. 𝙿𝙻𝚄𝙽𝙶𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝚂𝙾𝚄𝙻 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙾 𝙾𝙱𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙸𝙾𝙽.

[monsieur-j]

[mctherstarlight-blog]

pahdormah liked for a starter;

✷ DRAGON / elven GOD OF TIME, *AKATOSH / auri-el. Or would he arrive in the form of a mortal man? Such the nature of the D/AEDRA. Perhaps as a two-headed entity, of both Man and Dragon? Most exquisite. The Mother of the Roses understood, too.                       AZURA HAS SEEN YOUR COMING, TRAVELLER. And she prepared tea, too. It is not everyday the Aedra would so brazenly cross the boundaries between the Immortal Plane and the oppressively vacuous spaces of Oblivion, filled with nothing; perhaps tormented souls, but every now and then? A pocket of Oblivion commanded by a prince. 

❝Time-father.❞ She heralds the arrival of such a distinguished guest to Moonshadow, though not entirely welcome. This is Oblivion, after all. From a silver-cast and rose-adorned throne, AZURA looks into the twilight horizon outside the windowpane-less opening in the wall that lets the cool rose-scented breeze flow in. ❝What compels you to stray so far from home, if I may? Surely you took the wrong turn to the Deadlands? If I hear correctly, Dagon is but one letter away from your Dov children, but not in your highest esteem.❞