PALE LIGHT

no cost too great...

[palevurm]

❝We would be happiest to never see another advertisement for ‘Christmas’ for the remainder of our immortal life.❞ 

[isolaradiale]

Requesting a hiatus for Pale King from Hollow Knight & DJ Subatomic Supernova from No Straight Roads. Today's date is 11/17

Both will be placed on hiatus!

– ⋆ δCaeli

[wwov-deactivated20220630]

[hyposelenias]

          ❝ Pocky? I don’t quite think I have heard anything like that. Is it to something to this island’s version of… nectar or ambrosia? Like that? ❞

[palevurm]

❝Pocky is some manner of saltine or cracker dipped in chocolate. Far from an ambrosia, it is merely a sugary treat.❞

[origingened]

they chirp quietly.

[everyone was playing the stick game when i arrived and now it happened again. is it a holiday?]

[palevurm]

❝You can speak?❞

Figures. Only something that could feel malice would ruin his ferns with such glee. ❝What stick game are you referring to...whatever your name is?❞

[palevurm]

✧･ﾟ: * aesthetics : colours edition.

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 cloudless sky / ocean waves / winter dusk / deserted rest stops / dust-filled book jackets / sea salt in your lungs / open space lofts / mountainside meditation / empty ski lodges / calm before storms / electric charged air / lighthouses / road trips with no destination / desert skies / summer breeze through a cottage window / cool air against water-soaked skin / seaside towns during off-season / wind-chimes / big bed with lots of blankets / coming home after a long time away / a wolf howling in the distance / fingers dancing along spine / a hug from an old friend / afternoon tea / wild flowers off abandoned highways.

𝐑𝐄𝐃 wine soaked lips / internalized rage / blood on knuckles / four poster beds / barefoot on marble floor / velvet drapes / lipstick marks / murder mysteries / old barns with hay lofts / mouth full of weapons / love / dark chocolate / apple orchard visits / handwritten letters / fresh strawberry fields / cherry flavored chapstick / soft candlelight / vintage pumps / tingles over your body / strong but gentle hand around your throat / scarf tied over your eyes / fog on a rainy night / intimate bar settings / complete destruction / kiss swollen lips / scratches against flesh / sitting by a fireplace / blood orange sunsets.

𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 community gardens / sunflower seeds / open fields / blowing dandelion fluffs / bubbles in spring / warm champagne / drafty cottages opened after winter / soft buzzing near your ear / loose braids / flaxen sundresses / handmade straw hats / warm butter on fresh toast / daisy chains / drum circles / sun on your face / maypoles / outdoor festivals / street food / car shows / pop art drawings / fruity flavors / mist on produce / running through sprinklers / cucumber water / wrap around porches / worn pages of a book / honey in tea / yard sales / freckled skin / tarnished gold lockets / angel food cake / windmills / flashlight beams.

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 marshy swamps / haunted graveyards / old road signs / the house people tell stories about / lights flickering / jazz music / twig snapping / campfires / ghost stories / urban exploration / vines creeping up brick / wooden flutes / quiet forests / labored breaths / hiking trails / rain on leaves / bonfires / fresh smoothies / water logged grotto / painful whispers from jealous lovers / successful business ventures / leaky cellars / park theatre productions / mint scented lotions / ambitious promises / pine needle covered floors / oil lanterns / aloe on warmed skin / crushing floral foam / forgotten towns.

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 crinkle of leather jacket / midnight walks / bulbs burning out / black lacquered nails / the sound of bats screeching / distant marching band music / noises when you’re home alone / blood soaked knife / dark lipstick on pale skin / scent of sulfur / soot on boots / slasher movies / glint of cat eyes in the dark / oil slicks on dark asphalt / basement bedrooms / investigating a noise / grainy camera footage / black and white photos / dust filled attics / empty theatres / whistling in the middle of the night / scratches at your window / wrought iron gates / lace neck ruffles / long floor sweeping skirts / broken music boxes / needle scratching on vinyl / lost memories / disembodied voices / forgotten faces.

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 crisp scents / laundry on a line / fleece blankets / brightly lit hospital rooms / empty train stations / genuine laughter / feathers against skin / new life / cotton dresses / log cabins in winter / swan gliding through water / harp music floating through the air / plane rides for fun / mountain tops / ice sculptures / first snowflake of winter / linen freshly pressed / the scent of a running dryer / vanilla and cinnamon milk / a smile from a stranger / letters in the mail / a longing finally satiated / kiss of moonlight on skin / fresh canvas / snow glittering like diamonds / paint strokes / pretty lie told from a kind mouth / sparklers / coffee foam art.

tagged by. my city now tagging. whomst’dve

[palevurm]

continued from here // @rainonglass

❝Quirrel!❞

Could the bug not see what he was trying to do? He had stolen this book, caused an unnecessary scene to make amends. And now he was being turned away?! 

Shouldering open the door with a great slam, Pale King did not have to think twice on where to go with the anguished swirl of thoughts burning bright somewhere outside. 

The back door stood wide open. 

He rushed after Quirrel even as a muted part of him pointed out the absurdity of chasing down a bug in order to apologize. Quite counterproductive, no? it chimed as his wings snapped open to take flight. You're only going to frighten him more. Spiraling into the air, Pale King clutched the stupid journal to his chest.

Counterproductive? Perhaps. And yet the audacity of refusing Pale King's, his!, apology spurred the Wyrm on. Quirrel could run but he could not hide.

[palevurm]

OOC

school been taking up most of my time so i will try to get shit Done on Halloween weekend thank you for your patience }

[palevurm]

❝Autumn Equinox > Halloween.❞

[rainonglass]

Knock knock. Open up, it's Pale King!

     Incredible stroke of luck that Quirrel happens to be home!

     “Just a moment.” The sound of a canteen filling up, the rustling of fabric.

     Quirrel opens the door.

     He immediately moves to slam it shut.

[palevurm]

rainonglass​:

     For a moment, Quirrel almost opens the door. He recognizes that journal, he’s revolted that it’s in the king’s hands (as though the other can’t read his mind, as though the other doesn’t already know everything), he knows there’s a piece of him in there…

     And then, Quirrel remembers that he is terrified of the Pale King.

     “If you’re really returning it, just leave it outside.” Quirrel slides further towards the hinges of the door, away from the king, trying to force it closed and the Pale King out. Why, why had Quirrel come here today, in the first place anyone would look to find him…

     He feels it already, the weakening of his resolve, the aura of trustworthiness that the wyrm exudes. He has to remind himself of the death he suffered, and the narrow escape of a second death.

❝We want to return it,❞ Pale King confirmed even as wood pressed against his foot with uncomfortable pressure. Even as he clutched the journal to his chest he knew this as not the way to go about it for the last time they had met, Pale King had tried to kill Quirrel and then succeeded in hollowing out the poor bug’s mind.

It was little wonder that Quirrel was afraid.

❝Quirrel.❞ He struggled to pull his light back from actively influencing the bug on the other side of the door whose thoughts spread in rapid terror. It would be easy, painfully and terrifying easy to just get Quirrel to do as he wanted.

Instead Pale King shoved one arm and then another into the door crack, wood creaking when he leaned on the wood enough to keep it from behind closed. ❝Please open the door. Fully,❞ and then thought to add, ❝if we were going to consume your mind, we would have already done it.❞ 

[palevurm]

phasemacha​:

This admission seemed to cause the other great pain. Not physically, she knew now, but mentally, emotionally. She’d heard the phrase, ‘Died of a broken heart’ before, but hadn’t understood it in its true context until she’d come to this city. It was not about the physical, beating organ within some creatures, but the emotional heart. 

She appreciated his use of language. ‘Uprooted’ painted a picture in her mind of a tree being blown over in a storm, and the pain it might feel being torn from miles and miles of roots. 

(Transcript)

Such a strange position to find himself in, giving relationship to another. 

Pale King might have once considered his advice to be sound, stemming from a productive communion between two Higher Beings, Grimm’s partnership included. But....after all that had happened, could he truly believe to be a reservoir of good advice? 

❝A complex question.❞ He lowered the phone, no longer intent on charging to answer such a genuine plea for advise. Pale King was only beginning to grapple with the complexities of emotions despite being so longer lived, so old. ❝We would advise to seek connections with others to enrich your life with their presence. If they do not add to your life then cut them out.❞ 

Swallowing, he turned off and pocketed his device. ❝Romance should not be the end goal. It can be an option in the long run. Once you are more comfortable with emotions, of course.❞

[daily-paleking]

[arrogantsuggestion]

regardless of the rest of the world, I persist.

[rainonglass]

Knock knock. Open up, it's Pale King!

     Incredible stroke of luck that Quirrel happens to be home!

     “Just a moment.” The sound of a canteen filling up, the rustling of fabric.

     Quirrel opens the door.

     He immediately moves to slam it shut.

[palevurm]

Not so fast. 

Pale King will just shove a foot in, then a hand to pry the door open enough to get a clear look at Quirrel. ❝We have something of yours.❞ The flash of a familiar diary to incite the other to open up further.

[palevurm]

phasemacha​:

There was many things she could have asked further on; the infection, the Old Light, but, the draw of learning more about feelings was too great. 

(Transcript)

Pale King’s head lowered, foregoing the tap of the screen to speak freely. He reasoned that it took nothing away from him to explain to this creature what marriage was and his own would be excellent example. 

He reasoned but it was not his true intention.

❝Marriage is... It is a metaphorical union of two or more beings into one. Usually finances and belongings become shared between the parties.❞ His mouth twisted into a fine line, visibly distressed even as he continued on, one free hand lingering over the spot below his throat where the Kingsoul had once sat. ❝And when it is over, when it tarnished from years of neglect and... Well. It is easy to feel alone, uprooted, when someone you have spent decades with is suddenly gone from your life.❞

Eyes sliding shut, Pale King stood in silence for a moment longer before he looked at Macha, gaze steady once again. ❝We will give those two for free.❞   

[palevurm]

redlichbluelich​:

There’s an almost annoyed undertone to what he’s been reading as a perfectly casual conversation, and Barry has to take a moment to figure out what he’s done to cause it. “…Oh, uh, well–I’ve gotten lost more’n once in here, so.” he shrugs.

“That’s a fitting one,” he remarks mildly, glancing at the crown-adjacent situation on Pale King’s head. “I’m Barry Bluejeans.”

❝...Jeans? As in the clothing article?❞ Not an uncommon occurrence, to be named after something, but for a human? Unusual or so he had thought. 

Readily accepting the name, Pale King slowly bent one leg beneath his body and then the other. ❝Are you escaping the heat too or merely here to peruse?❞ He felt better-ish, enough to begin the process of standing up even if he swayed slightly from side to side.

[palevurm]

Adjusting his bundle in his secondary hands, Pale King stopped before Townhouse 105 and checked his phone again to make sure that yes, this was the correct address. How embarrassing it would be to show up to a stranger’s home with a pound full of raw meat in hand, butcher paper beginning to soak in the paper bag.

An offering was not necessary yet it felt proper, falling back into old habits of when he had been forced to delve into Deepnest. Not that he had minded the dark confines; its inhabitants begrudging tolerance of him had always been a point of contention.

Adjusting the paper bag to the crook of his other arm, he slid the phone back into his pocket and looked up, as if trying to catch a glimpse of her being home in the window. It was midday, terribly bright outside. Herrah preferred the darkness so she would, with hope, be home.

Glad that he had at least dressed modestly in pants and a top that covered his shell almost fully, Pale King hit the doorbell and waited. No use putting this off. 

@queenofdeepnest