[Serve the DEEP...]

Sulyvahn from Dark Souls 3, affiliated with Citta

[profanedpontiff-blog]

   “Wise words, from a glib tongue.”

Types like this never sat well with the good Pontiff – he was a man of harsh order, and sarcastic comments did nobody any justice in his eyes. Even so, the things this man was saying were true, despite the sarcasm.

   “I simply must question the tact of offering such a useless item, rather than nothing at all…”

[unshackles-deactivated20191221]

A pause was taken to mull over the few words, frown settling on his face. ❛You’re not very kind, are you?❜ It was taken to heart, even if the words were not as ill as could be. ❛Perhaps you’re lucky to have anything with your manners.❜

❛It’s not useless. Not everything has to hurt someone to be useful.❜

[profanedpontiff-blog]

Not everything has to hurt someone...ah, now they were delving into an area of conversation that the Pontiff had no expecting. It was a pleasant surprise, and had his face been visible, surely one would have seen a cold smile growing across it.

   “I consider myself rightly mannered, child, and just as kind as I need to be. The Church, after all, requires a kind ruler...but one who can speak for hundreds just as easily as for himself.” Turning more towards the small figure, Sulyvahn further inclined his head.

   “A book is to read from, and yet, if it is sealed shut, has it any use? The same way, a sword is an item to do battle with...if it is dulled and brittle, what shall it be used for?”

[profanedpontiff-blog]

Royal || CA Closed

[luthiensdaughter]

A figure, standing far taller than any creature she had ever met or seen with her own two keen eyes, came toward her, one spindly limb reaching out- not to grasp her, but seemingly intent on speaking with the she-elf.

Arwen craned her neck to get a look at the creature (Did it lack a sex? For now she supposed she could name it he, for sake of a conversation). But being towered over would not put the patient elven lady in the best position for a long, if perhaps illuminating, intercourse.

She hiked up her dress slightly to scale a nearby tree and sit upon its branches, legs dangling now, her gaze closer to his.

“The gods, you say? You name me child of them. My race was made of the one god, who created our world and two races; elves, and men. Who are the deities of which you speak?”

[profanedpontiff-blog]

His eyeless gaze never leaving her as he watched the woman clamber up the branches of the nearby tree, the Pontiff ruminated over her existence, her very presence. She held the fair appearance of one from the abandoned cathedral, much like Yorshka, and indeed, it worried him. Those loyal to the old Gods were vermin, like rats infesting a church for too long...

But it seemed the Pontiff had yet more to learn of this place and its inhabitants. As he listened to her words, his head slowly raised, as if he were gazing at the sky above. “...A single God...” The concept itself seemed strange to him, and he breathed it out as if trying to taste it.

   “....In the world from which I hail, the Gods were ancient beings of great power, guiding the feeble and weak-minded lesser races. Thine appearance...thou resemble their descendants with uncanny precision. But their time has long since come to an end...I had not expected to see one of their kind again. Therefore, thou had startled me.”

Stepping back slightly, the towering being swept one arm in front of him, bowing with a grace befitting his slender, lithe form, robes drifting through the air ephemerally.

   “I am Sulyvahn of the Boreal Valley, Pontiff of the Church of the Deep. Forgive my abruptness, child of the land with one God.”

[signorinaoz]

   There were many types of flowers and plants that caught her awe but that was quickly replaced when she spotted a certain creature. At first she thought he was a very well dectorative tree but when she realized he was moving, she couldn’t keep herself from rushing forward towards him. 

     “A- are you the King of Flowers?”

[profanedpontiff-blog]

   “...I assure thee, I am no king.”

His head gently inclining downwards, the Pontiff beheld the small figure who approached him. A human...ah, he had not seen one so full of life in a long, long time. A mere child, she was, approaching him out of idle curiosity, and nothing more. Folding his long, slender arms before his body, Sulyvahn bowed gently before her in greeting, his massive form casting a shadow over the young woman.

   “The flowers...beautiful, are they not? I have not seen their ilk for many ages...nor a child so full of color, such as thyself. Prithee, tell me thy name.”

[gravefandango-blog]

BLACK ICE

She hadn’t meant to do it, she’d just wanted them to leave her alone, for their own safety. She’d just wanted to leave without incident, she’d just wanted only an iota of control. 

Yet that had not been granted to her, and the fires had started. She only wanted to push them away, and she had wrapped their body in flames. Charred in an instant, she had fled the scene in the confusion but the screams still followed her. Fingers encased in metal dragged themselves against her mask, unable to force the burning image out of her mind. 

Distance had not helped, and her frailty prevented her from fleeing further. Where the rest still following her? She didn’t want to find out. Now her grotesque body leaned against the brickwork, her other hand steadying herself while her head was bowed. 

Movement, sounds- voices? She couldn’t tell, she just knew that briefest respite was already over and she had to move again. She turned, hunched over with her hands close to the floor-

Then she beheld her nightmare given form.

She froze entirely in place, unable to immediately process what she was seeing. Who she was seeing. No. No, no, no. He couldn’t be here, it simply wasn’t possible, it was just her twisted mind playing tricks on her. Impossibly slender digits came to cover her mask, scratching at her helmet in the vainest hope the apparition would vanish.

It did not, and the Pontiff continued to stand before her. She tried to move, to turn away but she buckled, practically falling to her knees. Anger, hatred, crippling fear. It all overtook her at once and barely a thought could crawl through her mind with an ounce of sense.

“…Sss- S-… Hhhhh-”

Her head bowed- she couldn’t stop herself. She wanted to say it was an outside force- needed to believe it was. Her hands spread on the floor between them. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry.

“…Pontifffff…” The black eyes clouded her vision, even after she forced her own shut.  Paralysed with fear, she couldn’t even form a twisted hand into a fist against the stone floor. She wanted to ask why he was here, why she was here, but all she could do was bow her head before him. 

[profanedpontiff-blog]

Ah, for the very first time since his arrival, a familiar form stood before the Pontiff. No, not stood, for that word would not do justice to her actions. Gazing down at the wretched, kneeling thing before him, Sulyvah in turn bowed his head, his masked crown hiding all semblance of emotion at the ‘reunion.’ In truth, they were never meant to see each other again, not since he sent her out with her bestial compatriot, far, far away from Irythill, under the pretense of being outrider knights who would serve the Boreal Valley in their absence. It was irksome. Irksome, seeing her here.

And yet, the Pontiff could not help but feel a surge of euphoria, beholding her kneeling before him, trapped in the cage of her own shredded heart.

   “Oh, ye child of gods...” His voice was as it always was -- a nightmarish abyss, soft and yet holding a tone of command, like that of icy iron. Reaching forward with a slender arm, he placed a hand upon the dome of the Dancer’s head, feeling the silken fabric of her veil touch upon his fingers. This form, this curse...this writhing upon the floor. All for him. All due to his actions, his power. That was euphoric.

   “Fret not, fret not...I am with you. ” He continued to speak, his words holding a sinister, yet soothing quality to them. Indeed, when he’d seen her last, she had not fallen nearly this far, not turned into such an animal. Was it not his duty as Pontiff of the Deep to guide his subjects, to deliver them from their pain, to give them purpose? 

Oh, of course. That was a lie.

   “Art thou lost, dear child...? Do not be afraid. No harm shall come to you, not while you still serve Irythill. I make this promise to you...I shall protect you. You have naught to fear, o loyal Dancer...”

[profanedpontiff-blog]

   “Ah...verily, a spectacle to be admired...”

Flowers. Flowers everywhere. For one such as Sulyvahn, hailing from the frigid land of eternal night that the Boreal Valley was, this sight was both rare and foreign, and filled his undying heart with a sensation which even he, for all of his years, could not place. As his massive form slid through the rows of flowers, masked head lowered to gaze upon the petals, the Pontiff nodded slowly at the beautiful world painted before him.

   “Though the people here exist in disarray...to think they could prepare something this beautiful...”

[profanedpontiff-blog]

Royal || CA Closed

@luthiensdaughter

Ah...now this was truly intriguing. For the first time since his arrival, the Pontiff was surprised -- it was not a pleasant surprise, either, though not entirely unwholesome, either. Simply put, he was at a loss for how to react, which could not possibly have sat well with one as controlling as him. And so, his form, perhaps twice as tall as she was, swept towards her with increased intention, slender arm reaching out to gesture towards her.

   “Maiden, prithee, answer me this...thine ears, thou must be...”

Indeed, her pointed ears, the kind of which Sulyvahn had seen only a select few times in his long, long life. His cavernous voice lurched with spiked curiosity as he looked down at the woman, mask concealing any form of visual emotion he may have been experiencing.

   “Couldst thou be...a descendant of the Gods of old...?”

[profanedpontiff-blog]

So, the Pontiff understood.

This land was tainted. Imperfect, unmoulded, a festering cesspool of sin and decadence. It was a land where fools struggled for power and understanding where they were destined to find none. Ahh, and there was no influence here, nothing to rule with an iron fist and bring the unwashed masses together under one banner...so they were destined to squabble, like hens in a slaughterhouse.

   “Truly imprudent...I find myself wondering, do the residents of this city consider themselves the fools they are...? A place such as this...is in desperate want of order.”

The threat of death meant nothing...but that, too, was nothing new to Sulyvahn, who had lived in a world of undead. Still, that was no obstacle. After all, if death was nothing to fear, then one would simply have to find a method worse than death to keep the worthless in check.

   “Such senseless conflict...such mindless chaos...who shall it be, who shall deliver the blind to the truth...? Shall it fall in mine hands once more...? Hohohohoho..........”

[silcntking-deactivated20171110]

  “Your appearance in itself a weapon.”

[profanedpontiff-blog]

   “Thine insults do thou no credit.”

   “And what of thyself? Dost thou hope to ward off vermin with thine hair, mayhaps?”

[unshackles-deactivated20191221]

❛I believe it’s meant to keep you from harming others.❜

A shrug of thin shoulders, accompanied by more words. ❛I’ve been told those who comply with laws are rewarded.❜

[profanedpontiff-blog]

   “Wise words, from a glib tongue.”

Types like this never sat well with the good Pontiff -- he was a man of harsh order, and sarcastic comments did nobody any justice in his eyes. Even so, the things this man was saying were true, despite the sarcasm.

   “I simply must question the tact of offering such a useless item, rather than nothing at all...”

[profanedpontiff-blog]

   “Prithee, enlighten me...”

   “This wooden blade I have been entrusted with...is this some manner of jest?”

[citta-alveare-deactivated201811]

Without prior reserve, applying as Pontiff Sulyvahn from Dark Souls 3. May the might of the Deep be known to all who inhabit this wretched place. Application can be found under /app or on the dropdown menu on the sidebar. Thank you.

Welcome to the hive, Pontiff!

You will be housed in district gamma.

You will retain the ability to create three energy blasts per day. You will also be given a wooden sword.

Enjoy your stay!

– mod 『 』

[profanedpontiff-blog]

   “Ahh, what a wretched place...”

The towering figure of the Pontiff glided through the crowded city streets, paying next to no attention to those he swept past. The figure, taller than twelve feet in stature, simply moved forward, as if with a specific destination in mind. And when he spoke, his cavernous voice rang with the hollow tinge of someone who was speaking to himself.

   “Tis almost as if the blind and the uncultivated have found their own sanctum...how decidedly slovenly.”

Indeed, this place was loud, and unclean, and disgusting in every way, in Sulyvahn’s eyes -- as his masked face turned to spectate the rabble around him, he was already beginning to wonder exactly how perfection could be brought to an unwashed abyss such as this....

   “What manner of affairs could people who appear so sullied believe in?”

[darksoulsartblog]

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