𝐯𝖆𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖆𝖗

No mercy for the weak

[lazarinas]

The Blood Prince Council A revised version of something I did long ago.

[likamartini]

[punch-and-pie]

The Crimson Hall- Icecrown Citadel

[justfilms]

[scourgeprince]

                    ❛ They can try to stop us but we will grow. ❟

[kaliri-archive]

Icecrown Citadel

[thewitchyking-deactivated202309]

Witching Hour of The Vampire.

[blackbirdcall]

[vrykolach-deactivated20240804]

[vtasdora]

Jules Tavernier

[mynameisgarlic-deactivated20231]

[scourgeprince]

𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔒𝔫𝔢·:

     ❛   I thought your kind died off with your master.   ❜     

           closed starter      @scourgeprince·

                    ❛ Ah yes. I do forget that  the  concept  of  life                     and death is often so very concrete for those                     who live by the duality of a standard mortality.                     I’ll let you in on a small trade secret, however.                     —— You cannot kill what is  already  dead. ❟

[scourgeprince]

                    ❛ Does it scorn you——what's been  done?  Does                     it leave you aching with un-fulfillment, ravaged by                     animosity? Does it challenge  your  natural  place                     in this world? ❟

His questions were as quick as arrowfire, no pause for reflection left on purpose. Whatever malice had corrupted him upon his first death had not dissipated by the third; he was egging the other. Creatures of kin, whether they acknowledged it or not, they were. It was his duty then, a Prince still, to weave his way beneath the other's flesh, like an eager needle, and stitch up whatever remnants he could find. Had this one been loyal? He couldn't remember the face. Was it he who had been scrambled then? Or was this one truly a deserter? Too many questions. He was going to seem suspicious.

@frostveiled ( @pitiflame ) / starter call

[vtasdora]

[scourgeprince]

He had thwarted the Alliance before with deception. He had infiltrated their forces and been seen in a good light—— for a little while. Trust has been harbored, enough to leave scars in the shape of cultists throughout their infrastructure. It hadn't been for naught, despite his defeat. His sacrifice had produced some gains in the name of their Scourge.

It would be the same now, for he was above the idea of relenting. He had lived to die thrice over and there was absolutely no fear, no struggle to fight the balance between life and death; his presence alone already walked that line. This would be a slow burn, the work that they did, and he was in no rush. Patience would be the key to preserving their art.

He was clever enough now to know that assembly with the king would do him no good but his daughter? Perhaps another story. There was a wide grin behind the more conservative fabric that covered the lower half of his face as he greeted her. He looked more roguish than anything, stark-white hair pulled back into a high, horse's tail, cloth garments draped about him. The only strangeness about his appearance was his large, bat-like ears and the pallid skin tone. The hidden smile would meet his eyes as he lied a charming greeting.

                    ❛  M'Lady Princess, I am humbled by your council. ❟

@gilneans /  starter call 

[scourgeprince]

How did you die?

The echo of a chuckle shook his entire frame at her question before his actions settled with a slow shaking of his head in the negative. 

                 ❛ Dear thing—— such a question is so terribly                      intrusive. Do you wish for them to  think  you a                      churlish   meddler?    No——  of   course    not.                      You’re     so      much     more     than    that.    ❟

A full-bodied mockery of a sigh had him slumping his weight upon one hip, eyebrow quirking in an almost conceding expression. 

                    ❛  If you truly wish to know,  however,  I’ll need                      you  to  clarify  your  inquiry.  Which  death?   ❟

[scourgeprince]

Do you still experience any of the same needs you did when you were alive? Emotional, physical, whatever you can think of.

                      ❛  And what do you gain by prying, hm? One in                   a  position   such  as   mine   has   no   needs.  ❟ 

This, of course, is a lie, for the Prince is constantly walking the line of desperation for sustenance gained only through endless murder. There is no game involved, not with him, but such weakness, the side effect of a beautiful gift, is not one to disclose to the masses, and certainly not this stranger. 

Other needs are but distant memories to the Darkfallen. Whatever he had cherished in life has been burned into the seared ground with the decimation of his people and he himself has left pleasures of the living in the frozen wastes that are now his sanctuary. Despite it all, he has been witnessed pining for the touch of soft blankets——he’ll never admit that.