oderint dum metuant.

𓍢𓎆𓏺𓏺𓏺 — AS MY STORY CAME TO A CLOSE, I REALIZED THAT I WAS THE VILLAIN ALL ALONG. OSEYE THE IMPALER. XXVI. CCXCII. HOUSE OF CICADA.

[ooseye]

𝗜 𝗔𝗠 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗.

𝒊. 𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔. 

𝒊𝒊. 𝒃𝒊𝒐𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒚. 

𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔. 

𝒊𝒗. 𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.  

𝒗. 𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕. 

 𝒗𝒊. 𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒐𝒏.

[ooseye]

— 𝕚𝕝𝕪𝕒𝕤.

OPPOSITE — @ooseye​​ the fighters’ area, shortly after the conclusion of the first round of brawls.

A sharp sigh carved its way through his nose as he ventured backstage; the aggravation curled around the sound forcibly dislodged by his momentum and sent cascading along his form until it found its anchor in the arches of his feet – where it made its presence flagrantly known, hardening his steps into a firm, clipped cadence that all but rang in declaration of his haste to fulfill his needs and make his exit.

In his eyes, it was by far the most distasteful location within the arena, even more so than the Blood Dome. After all, what need was there for searing spotlights and callous crowds to remind one of the purpose served by these grand designs, when one was standing in the very heart of the spectacle? Surrounded by the garish array of weaponry, the anticipatory hum of the fighters, and the blaring echo of pummeling strikes and splintering bone from the training rings, he felt like he and his fellow vampires were merely pets corralled into a well-dressed cage – to be pampered and prepped for the awaiting eyes of those who stood at the end of their collective leash. And worse than the awareness of that was the recollection that the horrid performance was one that most, if not all, of them had offered themselves up for willingly.

The thought ironed his mouth into a bitter line; one that he harnessed as a boundary to push at his gnashing frustration and tamp it down. He needed to rein in his rage more aptly, or he certainly wouldn’t be able to make it through whatever time he had left in the Brawl. Entering his room, Ilyas began to scout for his things. Now that he had been cleared of the upcoming round, there was no point in occupying the room any further, at least until his next fight was announced. Yet before he could make a single move, his instincts suddenly tugged at him, swiftly propelling him into turning around and facing detected danger. It came in the form of the notorious Oseye, who instantly crossed the threshold and barreled into his space. Unflinchingly, he said, “Step back, Oseye.” Despite the vigorous urge to do so, he didn’t push her away. He knew that any touch between them would send blood spilling in its wake. As his request went unheeded, he repeated it, yet with more force. “I said step back.”

It was not every day that the impaler was met with failure. Even so, she’d been cursed with the eternal memory of each incomplete kill, and how their presence inevitably made her lesser, no matter what feats she would achieve. ILYAS is one of such failures— and perhaps the most annoying of all. Meeting him in their present circumstances could only be some small token of kindness or cruelty from the universe, something to reveal itself within the results of the upcoming matches. That did not mean Oseye would not take the present opportunity to become a nuisance if only to put him on edge as they continued through the matches. 

They tilt their head, lips curling cruelly as they continue they slinked onward, unperturbed by Ilyas’s words. “Did you truly believe that after making an attempt on your life that I’d ever be dissuaded by verbal warnings?” Oseye pauses at a comfortable enough distance, a yard or so apart, which was close enough for them to assess their potential opposition. An opponent in more ways than one, what she’d determined to be two wrongdoings, consolidated in one (the newest wrongdoing being her potential loss, as the pure potential of such was enough to qualify as its own individual wrong).

“For an old as dirt half-god, you sure are naive,” she retorts, spurred further by his reaction to the sight of her. The two were linked by the impaler now absent in her name and identity, by her failure to rise to the task of a god killer. Teasing aside, attacking him in plain sight, without her usual weaponry would only put her at a profound disadvantage. “The Blood Brawl is one of the few entities that hold my respect. I have no intention of interfering with the upcoming matches. I only ask that we both remain in the game so I can finish you off myself.” Oseye peers at Ilyas cheekily. “I’m sure you’d want to make due on your end of this for reasons wholly unrelated to me, and I have every intention of fulfilling mine. Don’t let me down.”

[ooseye]

— 𝕥𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕤.

Location: Barracks, Cicada HQ Timeline: Blood Brawl (after the first round) With: @ooseye​ “Oseye,” Titus greeted, nodding slightly, knee and ankles still aching with each gingerly step. If there was something he could be grateful for from his turning, it was the way the most excruciating of human injuries were of little importance as vampires. The broken bones had found themselves healed within days, in what he could only imagine strings of calcium suturing the split shut. Of course, honour was another matter altogether, though if he was being honest, he was very much relieved at how the match had gone. He wasn’t sure whether he could’ve lasted another match in the colosseum without sending his mind to the brink of insanity. “If I didn’t know better,” he drawled, raising a brow, “I’d say you’re holding a grudge against me.” Bending forward, he settled into a seated position on the floor slowly, careful to not inflame any of the tendons around his broken bones. “Do you?”

The tenor of her opponent’s voice alone is enough to propel Oseye back into the arena— the taste of blood and dirt remaining fresh on her tongue. She’d presently been reveling in her win, though they could not ignore how close the match had truly been. His suggestion is met with an immediate eye roll, but her jaw noticeably clenches upon being confronted with this suggestion, prompting immediate soreness in the area she’d been struck. A loss was still a loss in the end, and Oseye is reminded of such as Titus lowers his battered body onto the floor beside her.

“Well, surely you didn’t expect me to make doe eyes at you after landing a punch on my jaw with that amount of force, did you?” she utters before launching herself toward him, clutching his own jaw with a firm grip. A nice jaw, but perpetually tense. “Maybe you’d understand where I’m coming from more if I replicated the move myself, but on you,” Oseye muses, eyes ablaze, lips coiled in a wicked grin. 

She falls back into her previous position after a dramatic pause, as she had been joking after all. For Oseye knew it would take great lengths to unnerve the steely Titus— his will would not break so easily as his bones. “Surely you don’t think I’d have reason to hold a grudge against someone who’d lost to me,” Oseye blurts between fits of obnoxious chuckling, as the foolishness of Titus’s suggestion simultaneously dawns on her. “I wouldn’t heap upon your present troubles by subjecting you to the wrath of my grudges. The defeat alone is trying enough for you to live with. Whether or not you hold one against me, is a more appropriate question.”

[ooseye]

— 𝕟𝕖𝕫𝕙𝕒.

Location: Private residence ?  With: @ooseye

Marriage was a convenience. 

And that’s exactly what Nezha had signed himself up for when he had said his vows to his beloved wife. In truth, he had agreed out of spite because what bigger way to say fuck you then to marry one that had been part of his destiny. And well, it wasn’t like he was mad about the whole deal either - it was beneficial to have a walking fountain of blood to drink from and it certainly helped boost both his power and his tolerance. So he supposed he’d count himself lucky compared to others facing similar situations. 

“Neck, please,” his arms were held out, ready to embrace for the weekly pleasure of drinking fine fresh blood. Pure blood. 

It is a mutual dependency that she loathes and is dually invigorated by. Though both emotions struggled for dominance, neither prevailed. Both are present as Oseye cranes their neck toward Nezha, with the intention of eventually agreeing, but not without first being unnecessarily difficult about it. She at first positions herself to be fed upon, only to pivot, lips now hovering above his ear. “Try rephrasing your statement into a question,” Oseye explains in a whisper that nearly shifts into a growl. “Makes it sound more like a request and less of a command.”

[ooseye]

THE NATURE OF OSEYE’S POWER IS PERHAPS THE CRUELEST IRONY OF ALL.

They can recall a time when they’d ride into battle, a wreath of spider lilies adorning their neck, swords infused by the flower’s essence, departing each encounter bloodied, victorious, and euphoric. 

The discovery of her power comes in the form of a human ambush. A clan of hunters set their sights on her and another vampire in her clan during their travels. When her companion began to writhe in pain, she remains unwavering, utterly perplexed by the situation unfolding. The confusion the hunters are faced with at her lack of reaction is enough for her to single handedly strike them down, one by one. 

It was an immunity that came with a cost, as most vampiric abilities tended to do. She’s able to sense the presence of the lily by the way it causes all of her other senses to simultaneously weaken. It’s a double edged sword, for it allows her to stand unaffected by the flower and it’s scent, but she also has to account for the weakening of all her other senses, making it far more difficult to engage in any sort of combat. Her training has taught her never to develop an over-dependence on a single sense— in case she is faced with the incapacitation of one. 

It's difficult to pinpoint exactly when this immunity comes into play— but for those familiar with Oseye, a shift seems to occur from within, to where they become hyper aware of their surroundings, in order to make up with the eventual dulling of her other senses. The emotional numbness they typically feels— their ability to encounter bloodshed and ferocity more than the usual vampire, only seems to intensify when their powers manifest. It only furthers them in their singular plight when faced with imminent threat— to kill and to do so with haste.

If pushed to their limits, Oseye becomes wholly incapacitated. They cannot taste, touch, see, smell, or hear— with only their thoughts to confirm their aliveness. They then become what they hate most of all, and that’s being utterly useless and vulnerable. It’s a numbness that does not wear off immediately, and depending on the length of her exposure, the sensation will linger for around two hours to an entire day. 

It’s an added benefit in her job as an enforcer— even off the knowledge alone that she has an immunity to the very thing meant to destroy them. That knowledge alone is enough to strike fear in the hearts of others. It also allows her to remain in places where other vampires could not when met with the presence of the lily. As of recently, she’s begun to depart from her duties, preferring a more wayward way of life, though that tends to frequently land her in trouble. Their immunity is no secret— for it’s something they’re quite proud of and frequently flaunt. 

[virginiewoolf]

Natasha Trethewey, from Waterborne.

[blog-rpg-closed]

sherouk farid - 1995 ((egyptian, arab, greek))

psd de @ultra-violences​

[bloodglug]

[ooseye]

bloodthirstrpg​:

FROST SLAUGHTERER

Rising from the flesh of unholy divinity, SHE has sworn loyalty to the HOUSE OF CICADA as a PURE BLOOD vampire. Blessed by the blood moon, her power comes from her SMELL. Turned at the age of TWENTY-SIX, she has walked the earth for FIVE CENTURIES.

POWER

A lifetime of bloodlust has made your undead senses numb. You are not affected by the scent of blood as others might be. Depraved beasts of the night, you alone can keep your composure against nature’s deadliest weapon: spider lillies. Their scent does not affect you, and even when synthesized into Queen Camellia the fumes take twice as long to kill you. Still, consuming any part of the flower will kill or debilitate you, and in the presence of spider lillies all other senses become numb.

HISTORY

HAD YOU NOT BEEN A GIRL WELL VERSED IN THE ART OF BECOMING A SNAKE, YOU WOULD HAVE DIED A HEROINE. There is within every maiden, a primordial rage that demands to be fed. It’s a malignancy that lodges itself in the summit of your being and asks a question you cannot betray: what will you become with all that you have been given? What must you endure to exist? They handed you a scythe and asked you to fell monsters as though it were that simple. A hundred lives for the price of one — it was an offer you could not refuse. At once you were a god and a girl, a creature revered and created from the cruelty of man. If only they knew the weight of soul was 21 grams. Still, in moments of greatness there is a choice to be made: burn or be burned. On the night you left the cave, hands bloodied and stained by those you left behind, you heard the song of their begging. In the end, it had been a pleasure to know that of all the girls who knew terror, you were the only one to greet it.

They do not know the truth, and you will never tell them. Whether they revile you for knowing you hunted their kind is a matter of perspective, and  in your mind deserves no more attention than the mistake you made as a newborn. You had them cornered, hands contorted into something feral, and a breath away from revealing their secrets. Your past had come back to haunt you and in that moment of surprise your prey escaped you.  How reviled you were, returning with no glory to spare, and it sickens you to grovel at the feet of those you once slayed. Still, you have chosen this path for yourself and you will not be made to regret it. Once order is restored, it will be you laughing in the face of uncertainty. 

CONNECTIONS

VERMILLION VENGEANCE  — ( MADE IN RUINS )

Across the battlefield you see VERMILLION VENGEANCE standing in a field of rage, eyes demanding that you follow him. Once you had been merciful, for you understood their terror, their fear of walking in the night. Once, you had been their protector (unwilling as it might have been). But now you realize man is also a kind of monster, one who bleeds red but whose heart is cold as ice. On that fateful night of your mistake, Vermillion had made a mockery of all that you had ever been — of all that you could ever be. Perhaps naively, you had once thought he could understand you, but that is a dream long ago shattered. So certain that you will one day defeat him, you forced the House of Firefly to immortalize his betrayal onto your skin. He will pay, and it will be at your hands that he will suffer.

COAL UNKNOWN  — ( DO NOT LEAVE YET, LET ME REARRANGE THE WORLD FOR YOU )

You are drawn to her like a planet orbiting the sun. In her careful gaze it feels as though you are about to be swallowed whole. Perhaps she is the only one you would allow to do so. You met her by happenstance, a fated encounter strung together by the weavers of life itself. How else could you have found her crying amongst stars? You do not know her, and she does not know you — but together you spoke of secrecy as though the word never existed. You are struck by compulsion when you’re around her, and it makes you feel as though monsters do not exist in a land filled with noxious creatures. She’s hiding from you, but it’s the want which makes you all the more compelled.

ORCHID FANGED — ( I KNOW WHAT WE ARE )

He does not love you, and for that you are thankful. Your marriage is one of convenience — a symbol of house dominance against both of your raging natures. They have chained two beasts together and hoped they would not fall apart. You will not give them the satisfaction of becoming undone. Love is the decay of all reason, and in its careful avoidance you have survived. There is a horror in ORCHID FANGED’S heart that you do not understand, and are unwilling to find out. He is but a means to an end that you have tied yourself to eternity for. Your business-like relationship has worked for you so well, why would you ever want to change that?

This skeleton is TAKEN by Lia and is portrayed by SHEROUK FARID.