yo so i might have to leave this blog because some stuff went down last night, and frankly i’m not 100% comfortable going into it here of all places for the sake of all parties involved. it’s not the same reason why i wasn’t around yesterday, so i really was pretty much fine until this storm blew in, and i was fine for awhile once i cooled down (thanks to everybody that let me gripe about it and got my mind off it, truly.). however, i’m like... really upset at the general thought of running this blog at the moment because of some revelations i had about what was said after the fact—a lot of the reasons why i made this blog in the first place and a lot of the emotions i carried and put into it just sort of feel betrayed, so...
i’m really sorry. this wasn’t how it was supposed to be at all.
a seraph? having trouble with some pesky earth monsters? it’s unheard of! even though the seraph now travels alone, jade comes to assist, hoping that the divine being will allow him. there’s quite a hoard, after all.
❛– Allow me. If you’ll be so kind, guard me while I’m casting.❜
@ruinqua
He finds it hard to hold his ground (in fact, by the skids left in the dirt and the crumpled grasses, he cannot hold it whatsoever) as the beasts pound claw and tooth alike into his worn staff, but deepens his defensive stance regardless. It’s hard to make up for the loss of a team after having been able to count on one for so long—perhaps this was what he deserved, walking away from the path of the Shepherd to pursue his own wants and dreams—and his lack of recent experience fighting alone shows. Flipping the combat rod over his wrist, his newly freed hand grasped at the middle, spinning it several times more like a fan to stun those just before him before he jumped back, dress shoes kicking up dirt as he landed roughly.
“Just don’t take too long; I don’t know how long I can hold them off.”
He couldn’t say he’d ever seen them gather in such numbers before, either.
“Did you want me to come out? What if they rest of me is just a ghost abyss? What if I’m Jacob Marley? How many orphans have you left with one crutch lately?”
“It’d still be more comforting than a person with half their face emerging out of a desk! What do handicapped orphans have to do with this?!”
He grows cross at the very question, visibly furrowing his brows in some small way—he may owe them some small fortune to be able to stand once again, but he shan’t forget exactly why he needed such a revival in the first place—that soured his otherwise delicate features.
“If they need help, they can help themselves.
Surely, you understand why some of us are loath to trust them again.”
uh for the ones who haven’t been tagged already: @ruinpure, @peterpaulwisdom, @noctissa, @clawinkitten, @wiedzmadra, @meteorbuckler (or on ur other blog i c u sir), @affectae, @coquettishcrown, @indxratize, @azoriumcosmos
This place was distressfully humid, the forest seemed to clump together and wouldn’t let any bit of breeze budge and greet Noctis with its cool respite. He felt a sting on his neck; an insect bite no doubt before he smacks it with his gloved hand, wincing at the impact and turning distastefully around him. It was a good thing he found a stream flowing through a crooked course. If he just followed the path, he can find a larger body of water. But right now, he was too exhausted to continue onward.
He can still feel the disgusting breath of the Malboro clinging onto his clothes. That fight, horrid as it was, even more heinously caused the scatter of his allies. More specifically, he only remembered its bad breath clogging his nose, corrupting his senses and he could hardly remember anything more of the ordeal. The next thing he knew, he had awoken face down against the damp soil, all by himself. No doubt, that damn Malboro afflicted confuse on him…and he must have wandered, disoriented.
His head hung down, groaning, continuing to batting away the assault of mosquitoes flying around his defeated form.
Taking light steps through the woods, he took his pace with some granted luxury, placing one foot in front of the other in a direct line as guided himself along. Rather, he found it far more pleasant under the shade of such dense foliage, free from the sun’s beating rays that did nothing but cause him to boil, and took it upon himself, with a hand lightly under his chin and his gaze contemplative, to muse silently about what seemed otherwise untouched by mankind. Guided only by the sound of the stream at his side, he was, at the very least, attentive, having heard the scurrying of smaller beasts as he entered the denser part of the woods and not wishing to risk them being hellions of any kind.
The forest itself had grown to be increasingly quiet in the last few hours (earlier had included some rather boisterous and unintelligible noises that the seraph chalked up to local animals hunting prey), leaving him by his lonesome as even the smallest rodents had since disappeared from the immediate vicinity. Perhaps it was simply a blessing that he needn’t breathe, and otherwise tended to forget he could without Sorey around, but the heavy odor that permeated the air went unnoticed—with no other warning signs, he would’ve continued to walk straight into the domain of a powerful beast, should not have something else caught his eye first: a young man clearly not in the best shape to be wandering around.
A light ‘huh’ escaped as he noted the human trudging away in nothing short of misery, bugs attracted to its body like vultures circling remnants. Lilac eyes continued to watch, intrigued in the apparent oddity that he’d been presented with. Disinterested in his previous thoughts, he approached as if studying a wild animal, wearing his curiosity upon his sleeve.
I can’t sense a domain like Gramps’ here, so he’s most likely actually lost. To which his hand reached out, pushing the young man in the direction of the stream to correct his path. “You want to go that way if you’re looking for water.”
twin flow. In case there’s anybody who doesn’t know how these work, here’s the details: By liking this, you’re saying it is perfectly alright for me to:
- Write you random starters. - Send you messages, be they ic or ooc, meme or plot.
- Basically it’s all around cool if I’m your friend & you’re alright with that.*
* There are no refunds or exchanges; once you get stuck with me, I’m there. This is a binding contract. ... Kidding, of course. You can tell me to buzz off and I’ll be fine, promise.
( it washes ‘pon the shore, leaving behind nothing but calmness; she’s too young and yet, she already saw too much. the place she speaks of is a memory from older days, from friends that managed to keep her company until, eventually, had to move away from their home. ‘tis not that she is upset about it; far from it! memories are good to some extent — it keeps people close. the smile she bears is genuine, allowing a giggle to escape ‘fore she speaks. )
“well, sharing is caring, right? i’m sure you’ll like it!”
Brows lower minutely, slightest amusement caught in a mirthful chuckle as he stands upright, stepping forward to free himself from the nearby fence. Arms unfold themselves, then hanging limply at his side before he gets some inclination to rest a palm along his side, thumb fitting nicely within the spaces of his belt-decorated sides. If he were human, he might have sighed there—such genuine emotion and pure intent could make him wilt with how like another it was—but without air already in his lungs, he can only give her a look.
“That’s what they say, isn’t it? Alright, alright, lead the way, young adventurer.
Take care not to get us lost.”
there’s a quick catch, hand outreaching to find it’s been laid in another. glancing up, he offers a smile before standing once again and allowing himself to steady before releasing the gesture he’s given. with the words spoken, even if he doesn’t want to admit it, this man is right. should he keep pressing on like nothing is wrong (and it most certainly is), there will be some consequences. jude nods curtly before taking the staff that’s been procured for him through some kind of artes and digging the end into the ground lightly. ❛Thank you,❜ he mentions before he forgets to do so in all this dull pain.
❛I.. Is this what you fight with?❜ it’s a smart enough assumption in his choice of weapon. after all, he’s been carrying it for some time without any hint of it being available until just now. he’s ready to leave while his question still hangs in the air for whenever his new friend has the energy to respond, using the staff as a balance in his moments of weakness, jude presses forward onto the rocky path.. there’s something fading at the end of the domain and he becomes rather impatient to get to the end. what sane man wouldn’t want to leave this place, something so thick with the weight of hate.. ❛–Huh? Never broken your word… well, I trust you. You don’t seem.. bad..❜ not with how his understanding is of the new world, however he still doesn’t know for himself what makes this place so different from his own. he’ll have to inquire later…
❛Is that it?❜ his head motions to the end of the figurative ‘tunnel’, stealing a glance at the seraph. it has to be.
The seraph merely nods, hiking up the path ahead with far fewer problems than his current human counterpart. His strides grow longer whilst trying to circumvent any additional effort against this harsh terrain, though he never allows the distance between them to grow more than a few meters apart.
“Yes, it’s my weapon of choice, should I need to defend myself.” Honestly, he’d expected some sort of commentary regarding his height, given the overwhelming popularity of such remarks, but it seemed as if (for once), somebody wasn’t going to make the point of comparison—probably because Sorey wasn’t immediately there. It earns a smile of relief, despite his statement bearing possibly the most passive tone he could muster towards the matter. Rather, his focus remains ahead of them, picking up on the waning shrouds due northeast of their position. It was visibly clearer within his own sight, brighter and more saturated than where they stood currently—though how much of the dismally painted surroundings, with specks of black floating upon the air like unsettled dust, Jude could perceive on his own was beyond his understanding.
“It should be—at any rate, let’s just get you over there so you can rest a while and recover.” There is a lilting hum of affirmation that follows, his own pace hastening somewhat as he begins to jog, kicking up his twin-tail capes all the while. He still checks over his shoulder every few paces, careful not to get too far ahead or leave the other too far behind (both would be bad in the case of an ambush), eventually stopping himself once he feels he’s traversed a decent distance without any form of obstruction. “If it’s too much, then just say so. You’re probably lighter than Sorey is, so carrying you there won’t be near as troublesome.”
Send me “alt!” and I’ll introduce you to a character I’ve rped in the past, want to play in the future or are currently playing somewhere else!
KILLUA ZOLDYCK | HUNTER X HUNTER | (bc nowhere does it say i have to keep picking different series)
“Ehh…?” He bears a childish grin as he speaks, nonchalantly bouncing the yo-yo up and down from his palm. Innocent appearance befits him, with blue eyes wide and full of mischief, but one should never let their guard down in such a cruel world. No, he bears the spark of juvenile behavior—he is a natural liar and he is sinful to the bone.
A chuckle, genuine, worms its way up from the catacombs between his ribs and escapes from beyond his lips, mirthful and sweet. People have always concerned themselves over his well-being—a mistake, a mistake!—and all because of his age, without any knowledge of whence he came (but if they knew that, they’d be loathe to stay near him, either). He finds the sentiment amusing, humoring, endearing if he can be so honest, but the young assassin says not a word. He wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise, now would he?
“So, if that thing over there dies, I’ll be safe, right? That’s what you’re saying?” Simpler than the Hunter Exam, for sure! The child skips (bounds?) toward the target, throwing caution otherwise to the wind. It looks pretty weak, if he had to be honest. Just some sort of dog made up of bones with a weird aura, supposedly summoned by magic or whatever they’d said—sounds like Nen to him. All the while the yo-yo continues to be tossed back and forth within his palm, the string not wrapped around his finger. Within the blink of an eye, as the skeleton lowers itself to pounce, the loop finds its place and the toy is thrown in a magnificently controlled arc, hurling 50 kilograms of a child’s toy to shatter through its joints in his twisted little game. Bone shards laid upon the ground, surrounded by larger, splintered pieces that were beyond repair (Oh, that one hadn’t broken all the way... Minus 10 points.) to account for his self-determined perfect score.
To which, upon his apparent victory, he turns with satisfaction beaming upon his features, bringing with it only his cheekiest (and farthest from respectful) tone.
“Thanks for the concern, obaa-san, but it looks like I can handle it on my own!”
Send me “alt!” and I’ll introduce you to a character I’ve rped in the past, want to play in the future or are currently playing somewhere else!
ACE | FINAL FANTASY TYPE-0 | ephemaria (semi-active)
Ne’er had he seen such dismal surroundings, not even when knee-deep in the carnage of war. It weighed upon his chest in ways insurmountable, and delicate features wrinkled with discomfort as he walked through the fog of despair. Dust clung to the air, refusing to settle, visible only by the red light pouring in from shattered windows to each side of the grandiose door. He could hear his classmates grumbling, all certainly in response to the surprise that had awaited them in the courtyard before the main building—what was that thing? Where did it come from? Why was it there?
Surprisingly, it seemed as if the monster couldn’t breach the school gates—or perhaps it did not care enough to pursue, as the interior would suggest. Like outside, corpses and splatters of blood were strewn from place to place. What had once been a majestic and well-treated atrium of architectural finesse that befit a castle now suffered from large chunks busted out of the marble columns and tiles, the elegant tapestries stained, burned, or ripped, the the once bright lighting that added a sense of communal cheer was now dim in the face of their inevitable doom. A few live cadets were scurrying about like rats in search of a sanctuary, but one sat giggling to herself, riddled with insanity, whilst sitting in the small pool outside the statue of Rubrum’s greatest mage on the opposite side of the room. Truly, for those who had just won a war, toppled an empire… It did not seem as if they were the victors.
“It’s all Class Zero’s fault! Everything went haywire when they showed up!”
Ah, and so the blame game would begin. Holding a hand up to the COMM device in his ear, he listened somewhat passively (it still stung, but he was used to being scorned at this point. they called him monster; they called him savior; they called him assassin; they said they were the Dominion’s ultimate weapon; now they called them the reason for the end.) before he drifted away from the group, drawn to the body of a cadet he could no longer recall or perhaps had never met, that had been thrown against the wall. Kneeling down beside her, he took in the small things: the look of terror and pain, how limp her limbs had become, the bruises and cuts no doubt a result of bludgeons and slashes from that humanoid alien prowling about just outside. They were the same age, or approximately—but most of the dead he’d find around here would be like that, robbed of their lives and existences before they’d even be considered legal adults, all for the sake of a country that would never remember them. That was just how it worked, though.
“Ace,” Queen’s voice came like a far-off memory, stirring him from his daze with barely a glance over his shoulder. His chin rested against the worn fabric of his mantle, blue eyes mindful of the girl and awaiting whatever chiding he’d receive for spacing out, though it would never come. “We’re going to meet in the classroom. When you finish, you should join us.”
“You’re not going to tell me it’s useless?” “You clearly already know that you couldn’t save her.”
The youth shifted his attention back to the corpse, nodding his head briefly. “Yeah… Alright, I’ll meet you guys there, then.” A hand raised from its place atop his knee, waving her off weakly. She always felt the need to say that to him (they all did), that he’d never be able to save everyone. It was a harsh and sad reality, one that caused his features to furrow and his teeth to clench in frustration—his fingers tightened into fists with each mental reprimand. But now wasn’t the time to be beating himself up, and the blond shook his head, sending ashen strands every which direction before he’d sigh.
Reaching out to the body, he gripped the shoulders and set her to sit straight against the wall instead of the off-kilter position she’d slumped into. Posing her head more naturally, with all the delicacy of handling something sacred would he bring her eyelids down and close her mouth, letting her appear far more restful than slain as she’d been moments before. Lastly, his hands found hers, taking them into his palms like touching porcelain, laying them within her lap, one atop the other with closed, gently curved fingers. He knew nothing of funerals, oft avoided the cemetery, but he found it cathartic, in a way, to set the dead to rest, rather than leave them in such staggered and uncomfortable poses. And the child looked upon the other with a bittersweet smile—he didn’t even know if he had ever known her, but this was all he could do. Bringing his hands together once more, lacing his fingers and pushing his palms together, his chin bowed in prayer for the first and last time of his life.
“May the crystals lead your spirit to salvation.” The words were quiet, the hope in them otherwise only a twinkling light against the backdrop around them. His eyes opened first, glancing upward without raising his head, enraptured ambivalently among the crimson illumination spreading farther into the room from the window—and his hands began to tremble lightly, earnestly lost amid all the confusion. They’d won the war, but now the world was coming to an end… Machina couldn’t be found, and Rem and collapsed… They couldn’t contact Mother, and everybody was now blaming them for the arrival of Finis—it was almost too much to even attempt to sort through. Shutting his eyes tightly once again, the bends of his intertwined fingers lightly touched his forehead (he is not the religious sort, but he is desperate.), “And may they grant me the strength to end this senseless slaughter… For the sake of everybody’s happiness.”
twin flow. not important but i’m probably going to stop doing the aesthetic titles on my posts and whatnot unless there’s some special case/reason/relationship for it (or if i want to be funny.). kind of prefer how i have them on my other blog, since it’s simpler and lets me publish things faster.
“Go to sleep, Sorey.”
Figure leans against the nearby wall, open book turned over within his folded arms’ grasp. It’s a lithe hold, the place otherwise lost as he holds the tome awkwardly betwixt the side of his hand and his thumb by the spine. And he raises it slightly, silently threatening to bop the other’s brow with it if need be.
“If anything happens, I’ll wake you up. But for now, it’s not going anywhere.” What would he ever do with this one? It was too dark to go into the ruins at this hour—they’d barely be able to see, much less examine anything. “I’m sure you’d like to sleep in the ruins, though.”
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