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@sanguiresse-archived
alright folks, bags are packed! i am now moved over to @sanguiresse. mind the dust; it’s still a bit empty over there!
i’m planning to write an introductory drabble of sorts, but that may not be up for a few days. in the meantime, i may be putting down some mini headcanons and prompts!
alright folks, bags are packed! i am now moved over to @sanguiresse. mind the dust; it’s still a bit empty over there!
i’m planning to write an introductory drabble of sorts, but that may not be up for a few days. in the meantime, i may be putting down some mini headcanons and prompts!
DEATHBOND:
With all of the careful motion of his hands, tracing the stone’s grain and lamenting the way the dead rest deep beneath the islands, he does not account for Vladimir to mirror him until his index finger nearly brushes Karthus. He stops, resting in the divot of the tomb’s etch and looks to Vladimir’s hand - matching him but not quite, divided by the smooth surface between two lines of the same carving design. He only looks to Vladimir when his voice picks up, and the hint he gets for a lich’s humour is how the hum to pass sounds like the short beginning of laughter; mild and tepid.
“It is not a desire of mine to see you come to harm by the hand of a wayward spirit, Vladimir,” he reminds him, crooning his name with the same peace he delivers a sermon. He draws his hand away from the stone’s surface to allow Vladimir his perch on its ledge, hands folded and the heels of his boot pressed against the coffin’s flank. The Mist may claim what it desires, but it was Karthus who stole him away from mortal company.
The short steps that elevate the sarcophagus are enough to bring Karthus somewhat close to a surface to stand on - though still he hovers aloft the earth. There is more than enough space behind Vladimir to sit directly across, and turn one’s head to look at the other, but Karthus finds he does not wish to pull himself up along the surface of the stone, and would rather hold Vladimir’s coy, ludic image in his vision instead.
He could also lean forward against the rock and take over his personal space. But that is not in his nature to do so.
“You do appear confident enough to protect your person, however.” It is a polite declaration. Enough sentiment to his voice to calm a soul in the cold of the Isles. “You may call upon me if you require my guidance, all the same. I have taken you as my charge.”
“How generous of you,” Vladimir replies as his attention strays from Karthus, to a fluttering leaf that, he thought, was perhaps was falling to the ground--- but maybe not. The Shadow Isles are motionless and stagnant, and Vladimir frowns when he thinks that his eyes will start moving the world for him. Hm. “I’m afraid I have little domain here.”
He doesn’t much like being in the care of another, to use their senses as grounds for his own and follow them around like a lost little child. But in this ghastly land, Vladimir doesn’t have much choice. Noxus, in all its hullabaloo, still dwells within his thoughts and seeps into his bones. But here it is all silent, all dead. There exists no hum of hearts, no rushing of blood. The air pulls at him, little by little, though remarkably, he still feels awake, despite all the warnings given to him.
At least Karthus has such a lovely voice. That in itself was cause for enjoyment. And between the two of them and the Isles, there is not a single heartbeat.
It’s the most peaceful place he’s been in centuries.
“I trust you, then,” Vladimir says, though he knows the words mean little. His eyes return to Karthus and he smiles, remarkably soft. The lich has been drained of all his vitality long ago, it seems; now there is nothing in him that Vladimir’s magic can touch. He’s powerless in this place and to him; that feeling is as daunting as it is liberating.
He gestures to the misty horizon. “Take me somewhere. I feel as though I may stumble into an open grave--- ah, unless that’s where you’d like to go?” Vladimir chuckles, and the sound is far too lively. “I want to see what is so beautiful about this place.”
the only layout im keeping for my new blog is my navigation page, because damn it i like my navigation page, it’s the only part of my theme that still works
alrighty! this blog is going to move over to @sanguiresse1! the urls will swap once i have some preliminary headcanons posted, hopefully by the end of the week.
@deceiveur and @darkining will also be moved over, but as you’d imagine they are much lower priority.
see you there!
the only layout im keeping for my new blog is my navigation page, because damn it i like my navigation page, it’s the only part of my theme that still works
ATLAS—
my son, my brother, my knight—
the world rests on your shoulders, and what a glorious burden it is, what wonderful purpose does it bring to you! do not cry, atlas, for their tears are your own and they weep for you, they cry out to you and you will carry them in your arms still with the world weighed upon your back. you love them, atlas, you love them. you were born to be their might, their paragon; they crafted you with love and stone and you love them so, for they wept over you like crying angels when your own heart broke. so your heart became for them, your body their armor, and how sad it is to love so much you do not know who you may have been before you were born of stone and armor. but you were meant for this, this is your purpose—
so atlas you will be.
@deathbond; continued from x
“Oh?” Vladimir swings himself back into sitting position, one leg dangling from the side. He smiles, all jest and cheer as he looks at Karthus--- and he wonders if he could coax out even the slightest of grins from that withered face. “I’m sure you’d persuade it just fine...”
Vladimir falls silent in the middle of all his chatter, tilting his head to read the sacred writs of the poor sod he sits upon. Time had etched its own markings into the stone, in little notches and climbing vines spreading over the surface. He brushes aside a bundle of leaves, though careful not to touch Karthus’s own hand, as close as it were.
A moment passes in introspection, before his eyes flit back up, jovial once more as he finishes his words--- “After all, you’ve no trouble in prying me from my home.”
Perhaps that was an exaggeration; perhaps Vladimir didn’t offer much argument. Ho hum. Quickly he turns to sit at the coffin’s edge, hands resting neatly in his lap as he lifts his chin to look at Karthus.
“Though, if a corpse were to rip through its grave in pursuit of little ol’ me, I’d dare say that its determination would be worthy of my time.”
vladimir poses on a grave. hello, hello.
It is more of a sarcophagus, really.
Karthus turns his head from where he stood gazing at the ironwork of the gate, long since rusted and remains of an era long before either men first came to the waking world. His hand remains upon the curved wrought iron, a remark drifting from his thoughts when he catches how his company has seated himself.
“You may disturb what lays beneath,” Karthus says instead, enough humour to colour his tone something endearing. ( However serious he is about whoever rests within remains to be seen. ) He drifts towards, and lingers at his side, a hand reaching to the carving on the stone coffin’s surface - close to brushing Vladimir himself, yet not quite. Teasing. Tempting.
“What if it grabs you? It will take quite some convincing to ask that it leave you with me.”
Hey, have you seen Vlad's new lore? They're heavily retconning him into an ancient vampire.
I have! I do believe that at one point, I was really adamant for them not making Vladimir into an ancient, classy, and powerful vampire-esque sort of character, but I’m actually super excited and leaning into it 100%. This is entirely due to the fact that I’ve been reading a lot of Victorian classics.
The new lore just works out perfectly for what I’ve been wanting to write with Vlad. I was getting frustrated with the sort of “extremely deadly but really lazy” behavior that I’d written for him— not that it was bad, but I had so many fun ideas for him to show off his capabilities, but never got the opportunity. Now that he’s older and in a canonical position of power, I can write out those fun villainous scenes that I’ve been itching to do.
I also really like the phrasing of “flamboyant salons in the Noxian aristocracy” because it confirms 1) vlad’s a dandy man ! and 2) there is a prominent aristocracy in Noxus and it’s that kind. Also, my knowledge of salons immediately goes to literary salons, which makes me think of Oscar Wilde and Natalie Clifford Barney and, well, that’s really appealing to me.
The only aspect I’m not really certain on how to approach is the cult, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out. I don’t think that it’s really a “ohh father vladimir bestowed upon me the wisdom of the blood magic” with like, red robes and candlelit meetings or anything like that, though. I think it’s more low-key, maybe not even considered a cult by those within it. More like a bunch of flamboyant aristocrats dabbling into blood magic.
So! It’s safe to say that this blog is 100% going over to new lore. That being said, I think a lot of the characterization I’ve had for Vladimir is still going to exist. New!Vlad is centuries old, so old!Vlad’s social inadequacies, the circumstances that led him to the Black Rose, his family-– those are still part of his life, but from years and years before. I think the direction I’m gonna take with new!Vlad is something along the lines of a Vladimir who doesn’t run off to die in a temple at age 40, who maybe pursues some of his own wishes, who has more time to cultivate and pursue an ambition.
Essentially, the traits that made Vladimir kinda harmless and ineffectual— namely his short lifespan and his lack of ambition— are now gone. So he’s gonna be a bit more intense, a bit more like a Gothic novel villain. Of course I’ll figure out the specifics once the full lore is released, but for now, fun times are coming 8)
okay okay so:
those new lores have come at the perfect time bc i just started working on remaking my blog over at @sanguiresse1, which will replace this one once i finish
im gonna cry i can’t believe vladimir has a canonical position of power, immortality, mind control, and a fucking CULT
HES GOT A CULT GUYS HOLY SHIT!!!!
A fiend with a thirst for mortal blood, Vladimir has influenced the affairs of Noxus since the empire's earliest days. In addition to unnaturally extending his life, his mastery of hemomancy allows him to control the minds and bodies of others as easily as his own. In the flamboyant salons of the Noxian aristocracy, this has enabled him to build a fanatical cult of personality around himself—while in the lowest back alleys, it allows him to bleed his enemies dry.
1. HES OLD!!! HES OLD!!!!!!!!!!!!
2. HES GOT A CULT!!!!!!!!!
deathbond replied to your photo: im 98% sure ive written this exact scenario on...
i raise you this 78.media.tumblr.com/69b…
PLFFBB
im 98% sure ive written this exact scenario on this blog
hey now @my body this headache has lasted for two days, isn’t that illegal
character stats framework.
repost, do not reblog.
full name: vladimir cecilius savatier nickname[s]: vlad.... all other nicknames are generally of the insulting kind age: thirty-six. gender: cis male. preferred pronoun[s]: he/him sexual orientation: ha! religion: agnostic, mostly. in modern verse, he’s a christian, believe it or not. a very bad one, but christian nonetheless, in that he wears a cross and talks to jesus sometimes (mostly to complain). occupation: in classic verse, court mage. modern au situates him as the owner of an antique store and an employee of the crime syndicate, the Black Rose. status: alive and single, my pal. fandom: league of legends face claim[s]: eh.
RELATIONSHIPS
parents: laurence & edith savatier. both are deceased. siblings: a younger, angrier sister named yvette. significant other[s]: ha! children: he’s physically incapable of biologically having kids. depending on who he takes as a hemomancy pupil, he may consider them a sort of kind of adopted child.
PHYSIQUE
eye color[s]: dark red. formerly, and in modern au--- brown. hair color[s]: white. (blonde in modern au) height: 6′ weight: how rude! notable physical traits: crimson eyes, unnaturally perfect skin, pale wispy hair. travels from room-to-room in a liquid state.
HEALTH
phobia[s]: drowning. mental disorder[s]: :( physical disease[s]: does hemomancy count
Poetry Inspiration Moodboards | once in a red moon
Every goddess carries a monster between her bones and iron in her heart.
i can be ur vampire or ur bee enthusiast
