THE CHILD WITHOUT LOVE.

[ninosinamor]

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THE UNTOLD MYTHOS OF CH'AH TOH ALMEHEN AS CONJURED BY GULLY. NAMOR IS ROOTED IN MCU & LOOSE PULLS FROM RIVALS LORE + PERSONAL CREATIVE LIBERITIES.

█ NO PERSONAL/NON-RP BLOGS.

A DEEP STUDY IN: MESOAMERICAN COSMOVISION. INDIGENOUS CULTURE & SYNCRETCISM. SPANISH COLONIALISM. COSMIC HORROR. / XENOPHOBIA. / GEOPOLITICS. / GENOCIDE.

AJAW K'UK'ULKAN TIES: @ignispanthr (shuri). | @falsedking (n'jadaka).

BR:  I. BLADE | II. T'CHALLA | III. CYCLOPS | IV. SMOKE

graphics by: koi & vendetta

[ignispanthr]

@ninosinamor

the caribbean sun pressed against her skin, warmth lingering in a way that felt different from wakanda’s heat. haiti had that effect. the air here was thick with salt and humidity, a weight pressing down on her shoulders, though not entirely unwelcome. somewhere inland, the faint hum of life carried on. the distant cadence of laughter, the soft clatter of market stalls being packed away, and the low pulse of music weaving through narrow streets.

her fingers hovered over the projection of the kimoyo beads, data shifting under her touch before she let it dissolve, the technology folding into silence. no need for distractions now. there was a reason she was here, and it wasn’t nostalgia. the ocean stretched vast and indifferent before her, waves folding and unfolding like the steady beat of a heart. patience was required—but patience had never been her strongest virtue.

her stance remained relaxed, though every part of her was attuned to the world around her due to the artificial heart shape herb through her blood—the shift of the breeze, the faintest ripple disrupting the sea’s surface, the unspoken anticipation hanging in the air like a held breath.

if this meeting was meant to be words, she had them ready. if it was something else—well, she was ready for that, too.

[ninosinamor]

the sea does not announce our loveless child.

no subtle ripples, no violent surge—only silence, drawn taut like a bowstring. then, the soft pull of the tide receding. moonlight shone silver across his shoulders as he rose, not with divine thunder, but as though the ocean released him only at her command.

his eyes, burrowed from the deep, find her.

    ❝ ayiti, ❞ he says, the word said with a taste of respect for the memory. ❝ land of revolution. a land of fire that would not bow to empires. you chose this shore well, queen. ❞

he does not conjure a smile. but his voice is not cold—it holds the spiral of unseen currents, like the ocean preparing to shift beneath moonlight.

    ❝ here, deities tread light. their names are whispered over graves and hidden in the bones of fishermen. talokan remembers such places. ❞

he turns his attention to the horizon, where sea meets sky in a line too greatly distant to follow.

    ❝ when last we stood, blood fed the water. my people still speak your name—some with reverence, some with warning. ❞

he pauses then, as he feels the breeze shift. the salt clings to his skin like warpaint not yet washed away.

    ❝ but i have learned that grief is not a wound—it is a doorway. and perhaps, what walks through it is not always an enemy. ❞ our king serpent steps closer, the wet sand giving slightly beneath his bare feet.

    ❝ the scent of our precious metal and the stars are on you. the heart-shaped herb speaks through you now. since our battle, i have wondered—do you listen? ❞ he inquires softly.

    ❝ i am k’uk’ulkan. not a title. not a child's fantasy. a name given by those who saw a god and needed one. ❞ he tilts his head, studying her—not with challenge, but with curiosity stemming from the ancient centuries of wars.

    ❝ but i have no need for worship here. only truth. tell me, daughter of bast—what shore do you seek tonight? mine, or your own? ❞ the waves hiss and recede as if awaiting her answer.

@ignispanthr

[ninosinamor]

@belayadyavol said: " IS THERE A REASON YOU WANTED ME HERE? OR WAS IT JUST TO SHOVE STRANGE FOOD IN MY FACE? " cont'd.

the surface-born child of cracked thresholds and shifting power recoils, her fingers sparking with threat. the scent of smoke clings faintly to her—like a being who’s brushed against a god and come away with tarnished pride.

nonetheless, our k'uk'ulkan does not flinch in the slightest.

the fork remains where it hovers, graced with salt-slicked flesh and strands of sea moss—still warm from the volcanic hearths of talokan, an offering that pleasantly moistens his lips with sea oil.

    ❝ then you would find yourself drowned in more than shadow. limbo is young. xibalba is older than the stars you draw your power from. ❞ he replies, voice shaped with ritualisim in the weight of it. a warning spoken like a proverb at dawn. no evidence of anger or mockery in the undercurrent of his tone.

his deep brown eyes narrow in her direction, calm and unbothered. not disdainful. only weary in the way of sovereigns too often reminded that mortals forget the dimension of gods.

    ❝ this is not 'strange', as you put it. these are delicacies anointed in sea-oil and my ancestors' prayers, shared beneath the roots of the ceiba tree, between our warriors before drawn was blood, and between lovers before vows were bound. ❞

    ❝ and they were offered long before your kind carved lines into the flesh of the earth—shaping borders where none belonged and forgetting the gods who once walked beside you. ❞

he sets the fork down, gently, as one might return a blade to its altar.

    ❝ you were not summoned for a feast, witch of steel and storm. you were invited to remember—there is a world beneath yours. and in that world, we do not recoil from generosity. ❞

he leans back slightly, the ocean breeze kissing as it curls around his frame as though there were sentience to it. as though the water itself bore witness to his words.

his gaze does not waver.

    ❝ you may spit the salt, but do not name the sea your enemy. not everything unknown seeks to swallow you, mutant. ❞

[ninosinamor]

your muse’s aesthetic — namor / k’uk’ulkan

list your muse’s aesthetic from tastes, smells, outfits, and sceneries. add as many subjects as you like, it can help with people tagging you in aesthetically pleasing things towards your muse.

tastes: roasted seaweed soaked in lime & salt. fresh caught snapper seasoned with achiote & smoked to perfection over volcanic stone. bitter cacao mixed with chile, consumed hot in the early dawn before war or ritual. honey & balché fermented in clay pots, shared in silence with those who understand. the occasional sip of rainwater collected in conch shells. dried spirulina cakes wrapped in kelp—sustenance passed to warriors before deep-sea patrols. maize tamales steamed in sea-algae husks, filled with salted fish or crushed shellfruit, served during the new moon feast in honor of the ancestors.

smells: the sharp tang of salt & obsidian stone. burning copal resin at dusk, clinging to his skin like memory. the deep, mineral scent of cavewater from sacred cenotes. moss-covered coral & crushed sea lavender. worn ceiba bark and malachite dust mixed with oil & sweat. faint traces of blood, dried on ceremonial blades. the brine of the deep, layered with centuries of silence. storm-soaked feathers. old cloths still holding the scent of a lost world, folded into his belts & bandoliers like folded prayers.

sights: murals carved into underwater temples, depicting gods with mouths of sharks and hearts of maize. the glowing vibranium sun suspended over talokan, casting ripples of light across carved stone and swimming children. shells arranged in cosmograms around altars to chalchiuhtlicue and chaac. tattoos inked in turquoise, winding across skin like serpent trails. blood offered to coral roots in sacred rites. nightfall on the surface, the stars reflecting on waves as if the ancestors are watching. jaguar masks cracked with age. underwater gardens tethered with vines, swaying with the current. ceremonial garments heavy with jade, feather, and memory. silent corridors where water meets history.

sounds: the low thrumming of the sea’s pulse, rhythmic and eternal. whale songs echoing through limestone caverns. the soft hiss of sand shifting beneath bare feet. the ceremonial chant of the elders, speaking the names of the first mothers and fathers. gentle wind moving through ceiba trees above water. distant drums beneath the surface—war or celebration, depending on the rhythm. blades sharpening against obsidian. his own breath, steady before surfacing. the crackle of torchlight in flooded temples. the quiet after battle, when the ocean reclaims its dead.

sensations: the pressure of the deep pressing into bone like an old promise. the burn of sacred ink etched into flesh during rites of passage. the warmth of seawater after the rage of a storm. obsidian pressed to the tongue before bloodletting. woven reeds beneath his palms as he kneels in supplication. coral scraping skin in battle, leaving raised marks like old glyphs. the chill of surface rain falling into warm sea. thick silt between fingers as he buries the lost. the pull of ancestral memory when he stands in places once sacred, now drowned.

themes: godhood not asked for, but never denied. weighted inheritance. the sea as mother, tomb, and weapon. a people preserved in silence and bloodied steel. kingship without ceremony. sacrifice made visible. the echo of empires, never forgotten. faith braided into flesh. tenderness shown only in ritual. memory held in stone. revenge sharpened over centuries, colonizer's blood curdled across stolen lands. love as loyalty, not indulgence. life beneath the surface, where light distorts and nothing is ever as it seems.

tagged by: no one. tagging: @warplanet @bladedsoul @wid0wd @ignispanthr @divminded @blueswede @bsywmn @intangibl @lunaidol @startaxian @skiesfield @metroeden @cosmicrayed @soulbarer @sanguisd3vil

[archaeologian-blog]

send me a topic to write a meta about my muse on

I might write anything from a paragraph to a whopping essay, but send me something you’ve noticed about my characterisation or just something you want to know about my muse and I will write what I can!

[ninosinamor]

unusual muse associations — ch'ah toh almehen.

› spice: annato — earthy, warm as a mother's embrace, and deep as the bottom of the sea. used to infuse food with strength and color. a sacred dye, a warrior's pigment, the taste of home — one that was taken on the surface and the one beneath the waves. › weather event / natural disaster: hurricane — the bitter storm, both creator and destroyer, feared as much as it is revered. the eye remains calm while the world collapses around its unyielding will. › colour: jade — the color of kings and gods, a precious stone of immortality, sacred to the talokanil. worn by his ancestors, cast into cenotes as an offering, repurposed in his name. › colour of the sky: the deep indigo of a natural disaster, a storm just before it breaks — when the air is thickened from warnings, when flocks of birds flee inland, when the sea roars its defiance. the moment before all is swallowed into the abyss. › planet: venus — the morning and evening star, intricately linked to the cycles of war and rebirth, a majesty to the tides and hearts of men alike. it is a warrior's omen, a lover's curse. › animal: jaguar (land/b'alam) — silent creature in the undergrowth, lurking within the void. the shadow in the water, the executioner of the gods. sacred to kings, painted in blood and gold. & for the sea, the megalodon or the great hammerhead shark (xook) — a soundless predator in the deep, large, ancient, and unrelenting. feared by his enemies, deeply regarded by k’uk’ulkan’s people. the unseen majestic giant in the sea.

› houseplant: ceiba tree — the axis of the world, its roots in xibalba, its branches in the heavens. marking the abode of his ancestors, where his people were lost, where he will not allow them to be forgotten. › weapon: the obsidian-edged club — a tool of war, one of the last gifts of his parentage, sharp enough to cut through flesh and bone. ancient but eternally letah, wielded by emperors, gods, and men who refuse to allow the earth their knee › subject / major: hydrodynamics & celestial navigation — the ocean is his kingdom, and the stars are his map. both have guided his people long before ships invaded an inch onto their shores. long before explorers set their treacherous black hearts on worldly expeditions. › gemstone / mineral: turquoise — the gift of the earth and the sky, the romantic color of rain, divinity, and promise. carved into the masks of kings, into the blades of priests, into the jewelry of those destined to rule. › make-up product: malachite paint — ground from sacred stone, mixed with oil and water, traced onto the burnished skins in patterns of water and reverence. a mark of kingship, a shield against spirits, a reflection of the jade throne he commands and the depths he calls home. › candy: bitter cacao — unsweetened, the taste of sacrifice and royalty. a warrior's drink, mixed with blood and chili, passed between those who shape the fate of nations. › fear: extinction — not his, but his people's. the fear that they will be erased, their culture appropriated, their bones scattered and forgotten beneath the ocean. the fear that he has already seen this happen once before. › method of long-distance travel: dugout canoe (k'ayuk') — ancient seafaring & war tradition. the first warships of his people, gliding silent in respect of the waves. carved from ceiba wood, used to command fleets, swift enough to outrun storms. › art style: maya codex glyphs — sacred geometry carved into stone, painted on walls, rich writings in books of bark paper. a precious language that speaks of war, gods, and history long before the first colonizer set foot on their land. › historical period: the fall of tenochtitlan (1521) — when the gods bled, when empires drowned in fire and steel. the wound that has not yet healed. › wood: balache tree — sacred, intoxicating, the source of a drink that honors the bond of warriors, and brings them closer to their ancestors. it is burned in offerings, its bark steeped in honey and prayers. › mythological creature: camazots — the night hunter, the god of silent death. he who waits in the darkness of xibalba, his wings spreading in unspeakable terror among mortals. › three emojis: 🌊🦈🛡️ › celestial body: the moon's reflection on water — shifting and elusive, never fully grasped. the same face, always changing. a guide to travelers, a signal to those who wait in the embrace of the dark. › romcom archetype: the one who builds an empire out of love, only to watch it be taken from him.

tagged by: stole it tagging: @ignispanthr @metroeden @intangibl @bladedsoul @warplanet @bsywmn @wid0wd @divminded @blueswede @startaxian

[ninosinamor]

[this psd border is so good. really love the work @vendettapsds has done for me overall. highly recommend !]

[wonderful-rp-resources]

Send me a misconception you think people have about my character and I'll explain if it's true or not

Please specify the muse for multimuse blogs.

[dontsteponthememeraths]

✧ Sentence Starters ; Death Becomes Her

NOW a warning?

This is life’s ultimate cruelty. It offers us a taste of youth and vitality, and then it makes us witness our own decay.

I am the one who understands. I am the one who knows your secret.

I’ll have to watch everyone around me die.

I don’t think this is right. This isn’t a dream. This is a nightmare!

SEMPRE VIVE! LIVE FOREVER!

Then what?

I don’t want to live forever. I mean, it sounds good, but what am I gonna do? What if I get bored?

Make some room for my friend, for Christ’s sake. But… keep your ass handy.

He won’t get far. Not at his age.

We are creatures of the spring, you and I.

For you… I’d like to give a present…the gift of life and youth, forever.

But you must make me a promise. The secret that we share must never become public.

A touch of magic in a world obsessed with science.

So warm, so full of life.

Well, it is the natural law.

Oh, screw the natural law!

The sordid topic of coin, I’m afraid, is not so simple. The cost, you see, it’s different for everyone.

Take care of yourself. You and your body are going to be together a long time, be good to it.

I’m glad to see you are awake, (muse name).

Could you just not breathe?

You’re a fraud, (muse name)! You’re a walking lie and I can see right…THROUGH YOU!

Oh, for Christ’s sake, at least lie quickly!

Oh, gosh, I’m glad you came. I didn’t know if you would.

I spoke to my PR woman and she said (muse name) goes to the opening of an envelope. Oh, those people can be so cruel!

I fired her.

Well, I almost fired her.

You’re dressed. Special occasion?

I… fell down the stairs.

You should learn not to compete with me. I always win!

You may have always won, but you never played fair!

Who cares how I played? I won!

(muse name)! You pushed me down the stairs.

Who’s the little piece of meat?

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah…

Tell me, doctor. Do you think I’m starting to need you?

Drink it!

You have to!

Has that ever worked? When you ask me where I last saw something?

Do you remember where you parked the car?

Kind of find it hard to believe that he actually got up early and made his side of the bed.

So, where’d he sleep?

I just want you to know one thing (muse name). You brought this on yourself!

What have you done!

What have I done? Defended myself that’s what! You plotter. Co-Conspirator!

My God (muse name), that was horrible! It was brutal, it was stupid!

The police (muse name)! The police!

Oh what are they gonna do? Put me in the gas chamber? Big deal.

What about life in prison? Do you know what that means to a person in your condition?

Oh, you’re so negative. Can’t you for once just let me enjoy the moment?

What about the neighbors? You don’t think they heard that gunshot?

I am completely rational, (muse name). We’re going to bury her.

Pretty strong words for a murderer on the run. Which is let’s face it, exactly what you are (muse name).

Ain’t nobody can play dead like me.

I’ll get the shovels, dear.

[deluxedoll]

So like. . .he's my bf too. 🎀💕

[senome]

May 27: Currently, basic aspects of Senome have been established, like orthography and phonology, along with simple parts of the language. More details of my orthography and vowel harmony is what will be showcased in the later days.

I will also soon showcase the script of Senome in the following days, but it’s the part of the language influenced by Mayan.

I would love to hear about how I could possible improve or add on to my language!

(I will also be working on other projects too… so be forewarned of these news…)

[salylockheart]

Imperius Rex