indefinite hiatus.

a blade guided by honor and grief.

[soruteika]

Indefinite hiatus notice. I will be back soon; life just has a lot to handle right now, and I have to get life back together. I can't focus on anything irl, let alone be here. i will be back, I always will. But for now, my focus is needed elsewhere. gomenasai. 🙇‍♀️

I added my comic muses to my multi temporarily; Tatsu will be back on this blog, but I would rather write her over there for 2-3 months while I sort out my life, than not write her at all. Feel free to follow me over @unholyrites, wait for me here or unfollow altogether. I will not be mad either way. See you soon.

[soruteika]

I will be back soon; life just has a lot to handle right now. gomenasai. 🙇‍♀️

[soruteika]

So I’m gonna be honest: I totally lost the overview on this blog. It’s 1.5 years old, and everything is a mess. I owe starters from five months ago, same with memes and my replies… oh boy. I’d need a few days, if not weeks, to clean this up.

Or I could just archive and start a new blog, which would save me a lot of energy, but I honestly do like this blog. I’m a Sagittarius. I really need someones opinion so I can do what I want afterwards anyway. So let me ask you, as a follower of mine:

what would your prefer

Stay on this blog & take my time to sort things out.

Archive and do a fresh start but losing this blog.

Voting ended onFeb 12

Cleaning would mean: finishing all those 40+ starters and the 20-ish replies I owe, at least for the still-active people. I’m so sorry it took forever. Then I’d clean out inactive followers and get those tags under control. (No new graphics, because mine still slay and you know it.)

Archiving would mean: dropping everything and starting fresh on a new blog with a new starter call.

Decisions.

[knightwayne]

dceu meme: 5/5 female characters ↳“Where was the mercy for my husband?”

[destinationfinal]

SHIOLI KUTSUNA Invasion (2021) - Season 3

[soruteika]

a'am jadeed sa'eed, sera <3

shukran ya habibti, sana sa‘ida, shana tova lak! 🥰

[soruteika]

I absolutely hate doing this, and it is genuinely embarrassing. I tried to avoid it for as long as I could, but I have run out of any means or way to fix this on my own, so I will get straight to the point. I am in a dire situation, and I have absolutely no way to cover my medication, food, period products, or insurance this month. It is a very long story, which you can read under the cut, but if anybody can help me in any way, I would be deeply grateful. I will pay it back, or I can offer graphics or similar work in return. I have never done commissions and have only ever made graphics for myself, but I am willing to try. If you cannot help directly, even reblogging this would help already, so it might reach someone who can, which would mean a lot. I really, really hate doing this, and I am posting it just before I have to run an errand because it is that embarrassing. But if anyone has the means to help, my KO-FI is linked here.

Sorry, this is super long, but as I said, it is a super complicated story, the full story. I have been on sick leave since July because I was not, and still am not, mentally able to work. We are working on that through medication adjustments and trauma therapy. The problem is that I am new to Austria (I have Swedish and Yemenite citizenship)and have only worked here for about seven months. As an EU citizen, I have the right to live and work here, but because I did not work a full twelve months, I am only entitled to six months of job-seeking allowance. Those six months are now over. I do qualify for a form of financial aid for people who are ill, not job seeking but ill, because the initial six months are intended for people who can quickly return to work, which I cannot. The system here is complicated and frankly strange. I have submitted all required documents, attended every medical appointment they demanded, and still, they refuse to pay me any social security.

On top of that, I fell behind on two months of rent. I explained my situation to my landlord, but after some time, they cancelled my contract. By law, they were not allowed to remove me, my belongings, or enter my flat without a court order. Despite this, one morning, six men stormed my flat, ripped everything out of my shelves, forced me to change my clothes in front of them, and physically handled me. I was left with bruises all over my arms. They then forcibly threw me out onto the street. To this day, they still have all of my belongings, including documents, clothes, and electronics that I could have sold but cannot access. All of that was illegal of course, but they did not care, and the police only took my details and then left. As soon as they see an Arab/Semite name, they don't care. ACAB for real.

I have severe social anxiety, I am deeply religious, and I am absolutely terrified of men. My landlord knew this and still sent six men to assault and terrorise me. I called the police, but nothing came of it. As a result, I am now living in a women’s shelter. Because of my mental state, I cannot stay in a normal shelter and require my own room, so I am lucky in that regard. However, I can only stay here until the end of April. Despite not being well enough, I now have to return to work because Social Security continues to refuse payment. I am working with a social worker, but that does not help me at this moment. Right now, I have two pairs of trousers, one pair of shoes, one thin jacket, three hoodies, and my laptop. I had to buy a few clothes because I literally had nothing. The people here are incredibly kind, and I feel safe, but I have absolutely no money to survive.

I am receiving rejection after rejection for job applications. I have just signed up for work that I am deeply uncomfortable with, and that goes against my morals, but it is fast, and I am guaranteed income. It is freelance work, and I will not receive payment until mid February. I also need to gather 1900 euros for a deposit on a flat I can move into on the fifteenth of March. At the moment, I am about to start freelancing, actively looking for work, and receiving no support beyond the shelter. This also means I have to pay my health insurance myself until then. It is 170 euros, fully covered, but still my responsibility. Because of this, I am no longer exempt from medication fees, which are five euros per prescription. I currently have nothing. All my accounts are overdrawn. I have borrowed money from everyone I know, but with Christmas and the general economic situation, people are struggling.

I need food to get through January and February. I need period products, as I started my period today and tomorrow will be particularly bad, and I only have two pads left. I need my medication, which I must pay for out of pocket. These include Strattera, Venlafaxine, Bupropion, Pregabalin, Lamotrigine, iron supplements for severe anaemia, Lorazepam, and L-Thyroxin. I can provide my last pharmacy bill from three weeks ago or even my diagnoses if needed. I am that desperate. I truly tried to avoid posting this. I thought about this several times, but always felt too brazen to ask strangers for money, but... I ran out of options. I am deeply embarrassed and hate having to ask others for help, especially when so many people are struggling. But if anyone can help, I would need to collect my medication twice to last until mid February, along with food, water, period products, and ideally my health insurance payment. Without insurance, I need approximately 250 to 300 euros to survive until Mid of February.

So, TLDR. I am basically homeless, living in a shelter with nothing on me, almost out of medication, which will last until Wednesday, the day after tomorrow, out of food, water, and sanitary products, and I am hoping my insurance will not cancel me for paying late. I did everything I could, but at this point, it is all about waiting, and frankly, I cannot wait without my meds and food. I am officially diagnosed with strong depression, social anxiety disorder, panic attacks, anxiety disorder, and ADHD. Ihave it all on paper. I need these medications. (Strattera, Venlafaxine, Bupropion, Pregabalin, Lamotrigine, iron supplements for severe anaemia, Lorazepam, and L-Thyroxin.) Without them, I fall back into a very dark mental place that I do not want to return to. I was miserable there. I have been on these medications for a year now, and they have helped me enormously. Stopping them would not only put me through withdrawal but also undo all the progress I have made. Working would become impossible, and that would put me in an even worse position, especially since I can only stay in this shelter until April.

I am more than willing to pay everything back bit by bit once I am stable again. If anyone can help me at all, I would be endlessly grateful. KO-FI.

I can give any proof or something you need, if I have it.

[soruteika]

@unseencne sc. !

She had heard their whispers. The voices captured within her blade. They spoke of something dark awakening, something old, something that should no longer roam the worlds. Something that was coming for them. Coming for her. Granted, some of the souls that had lived for decades, perhaps even centuries, within the steel might have gone mad, might have had a flair for drama, but she could never fully shake the feeling that something was happening. That something was watching her back, waiting to grab her by the neck and drag her into the dark with it.

Soultaker had never been a tool meant to disturb the balance of the world. It took the souls of the dead it struck, lives were taken, and souls were sent elsewhere. Whether that place was the dimension within the steel, some far off distance, an imagined hell or underworld, or whatever one chose to believe, it had always been a passage. But Soultaker had never been used to the extent Katana used it. Never had it been forced to carry the weight of so many deaths. Not even a fraction of what she had done since she became nothing more than a hollow shell of who she once was.

She had sought revenge, and she had claimed it. But revenge did not breathe life back into her. It merely allowed her to forget who she had been. Not Katana. Not the merciless shell some called a hero, a samurai, one of the good. All of those were just titles. Titles attached to a name she had nearly forgotten existed.

Tatsu.

The girl before the sword. Wife. Mother. Woman.

It had gone so far that she sometimes did not even recognise her own name, did not respond when someone called it. Soultaker had not only taken her husband’s soul. It had taken hers as well. With every kill, every time her skin touched the blade, it fed on her spirit, and she allowed it to do so willingly. But now it seemed the sword had swallowed more than it could hold. Or perhaps she had allowed it to take more than she could endure.

Of course, she noticed the souls growing stronger. Of course, she noticed how the sword began to take over, how she no longer had the strength to pull it back under her control. Of course, she noticed how she fell asleep with it beside her, only to wake and find it in a different room. She told herself she had grown careless. She trained harder than ever. She locked it away each night. She believed she could make it hers again, instead of the other way around.

Her husband was still inside the blade. His soul, ten years after his death, still spoke to her. He was still with her. She would kill anyone who tried to come between her and Soultaker. Between her and him. Grief was no solution. She had already lost both her children, lost forever, voices she would never hear again. She would not lose her husband as well. She would kill whoever stood in her way, or die trying.

Rain poured down her body as she stepped into her house. It could not have been more bleak. Anyone who entered might have thought the place abandoned, or waiting to be sold. There was no warmth, no sign of life. Only a shrine where her katanas were stored, a futon on the floor, clothes packed away in boxes rather than drawers or wardrobes. Nothing that could make it feel like a home.

She did not want it to feel like one.

A home without her family would have been a betrayal.

Her rain soaked footsteps carried her to the shrine. She looked exhausted, unnaturally so, as she lifted the blade from her hip and placed Soultaker back into its secured place. The space was surrounded by small objects gathered from across the world, offerings meant to soothe the dead. She had killed too many powerful men. Too many monsters. The sword, once a prison, could no longer hold its walls.

The moment the weight left her body, she felt more awake. More aware. A deep sigh of relief escaped her lips, and for the first time in hours, she could close her eyes and breathe. It was as though an immense burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

Her hand reached for the mask that covered most of her face, pulling it away along with the oppressive weight the blade had drowned her in. But with that release came clarity. Her senses were no longer clouded by darkness or the relentless noise of voices.

And she heard him.

Right there. In the middle of her house.

Her head snapped to the side. Pitch-black eyes met red. Instinct took over. Her hand reached for the katana beside her. It was not Soultaker, but it did not matter. She was lethal with or without it. The blade she now levelled at the stranger was just as sharp.

[soruteika]

𝓠 — @proditeur asked: " it was an accident. "

Tatsu did not move. Not when the spirits hissed in disbelief. Not when Soultaker pulsed once, sharp and offended. Not when Regulus stood in front of her with his perfect poise as he always did, and what she hated most about him, and offered the most insulting answer known to mankind. She only blinked once. Slowly. A warning, maybe? Or was she stunned? It took a lot to stun a Samurai. The kind of slow that suggested a very calm woman imagining very violent possibilities. Her voice came quietly. Too quiet. It was not good when she was quiet. ❝ That is the word you choose.❞

She stepped toward him, not fast, not threatening, simply trying to consider if murder and the cleaning of her house and swords afterwards were worth the hassle, or if she would indulge this once. The air shifted with her; it quite literally did, the ghosts and spirits in her blade made sure of that. It was not really much of a her talent but their talent. She could but she had no need to posture. A lifetime of violence had taught her that stillness was far more terrifying.

❝ You broke into a sealed shrine that had been untouched since the Edo period.❞ Another step. ❝ You removed charms that even my grandmother would not dare disturb.❞ Another. ❝ You opened a lacquered chest with warnings carved into it in three languages.❞

She was close now. Not invading his space. But reminding him she could. Her head tilted as if inspecting a rare species. To be fair, he indeed was a very rare and very weird species of man. ❝ And this is what you tell me. That it was an accident.❞ The spirits whispered murder in her ear. She ignored them. Her voice lowered, becoming edged but never raised. ❝ You strike me as many things. Foolish is not one of them. Stupid, but foolish? No. So if you wish to live long enough to explain what you really did, you will try again.❞

Now, we are we even with that 1 year late reply lmao did I wait 2,5 months to post it just to get back at you? MAYBE 🫶

[proditeur]

"the front door is open, you know."

he is the picture of calm — finely-dressed in silks and satin; the shine of his boots is almost as mirroresque as the soultaker itself. standing on opposite sides of an invisible line drawn on the carpet, he waits with an eerie patience with his hands tucked in his pockets and his eyes trained on her mask.

it's as if the sword isn't even there, poised to take him.

"there's a buffet as well — but i did have a feeling you'd prefer this one," he gestures with his nose to the haphazardly-rifled things. the scrolls and books and photographs he's left out for her to find. like a piece of cheese set in a mousetrap.

but they're both the mice, and both the cat. a quizzically-fascinating pair of prey-predators staring at one another and daring their adversary to make the first move. but whomever strikes first, loses, eh thinks.

so it won't be him.

"did you come all this way for a fight? i wish you'd chosen a better night; i have guests. and i could have prepared something more interesting." more... memoir. less regulus.

there is caution under his skin — his magic radiates with warning. he knows that she's far too skilled for him to defeat physically but at least in supernatural power they are more evenly-matched. yet he's not a cruel person, or a power-hungry one, and he doesn't believe in waste. katana hasn't done anything to him and neither has the soultaker — yet — and magic like that would be tragically-missed.

"you can try to kill me if you like, but then you'll only ever have found the copies of what i discovered. so why don't you lower the soul sword and use your big girl words, love?"

[soruteika]

The sword hummed like a living thing, a low warning that crawled across the room and curled around her spine. Soultaker had never been subtle, not when it sensed something old, something that understood souls. It was almost eager which irritated her more than anything. Spirits did not become excited unless there was a reason. Regulus Black was not a reason she enjoyed.

He stood there in his perfect clothes and perfect calm and perfect posture, speaking as if she had walked into his kitchen instead of his hideout. Gosh, she hated rich people, as if Batman was not enough of a pain in the ass, now she had another billionaire up her ars,e but this one knew how to brew his own potions and whiskey. Though by the colour, that was not whiskey, he might be able to fool an idiot, but she was too smart for that. Great. Bruce Wayne with a wand. The spirits behind her mask muttered in a chorus of languages he likely would not care to hear. She let them. They were the only ones in the room with enough sense to be angry.

❝ An open front door is not an invitation. It is a warning that the owner is careless or arrogant or both.❞ Her gaze travelled across him, from the polished boots to the silk. ❝ In your case, I suspect the second. ❞ Tatsu lowered the blade a fraction. Not enough to be polite. Just enough that he could see she was not here to perform for him. Her head tilted slightly. ❝ You went looking for someone long dead. You found pieces of her. Old pieces. Things I should have burned long ago. ❞

She moved then. Not with the dramatic sweep of a showman, but with the silent, economical glide of someone who spent years surviving rooms filled with men who thought they were smarter than she was. Her shadow fell across the scattered photographs he had so generously curated. The one with her name on it sat at the centre like a challenge.

Her fingers did not reach for it. They curled slightly, a restrained tension. Her eyes lifted to him. ❝ And you left them out as bait. Very confident. Or very stupid. I still have not decided.❞ She took a single step closer, and Soultaker reacted before she did. The spirits hissed, their voices coiling around her words. ❝ Food for your guests. Heard Yet you set a much more elaborate table for me. Scrolls. Photographs. My name is written by your hand. You knew exactly which thread to pull.❞

Her voice was calm, but underneath it lay the quiet thrum of danger. Not anger. Not threat. Just clarity. The kind that came right before a blade slid into someone’s spine.

She circled him slowly, not like a predator, but like a professional assessing an opponent’s stance. Calculating weight, distance, and intent. The sword remained angled in a way that left him a choice between taking a breath or taking a risk.

❝ Copies. That is fine. Still. You had the originals once. ❞ Another step. ❝ But you already know that, didn't you? Otherwise, you would not be standing so still.❞ She stopped beside him, almost shoulder to shoulder but with an inch of air between them that felt like a battlefield. ❝ You want me to use words. Very well. Here is one word for you. Why.❞ Her mask turned toward him, unreadable. Just like the face hiding beneath. ❝ Why search for Tatsu Yamashiro? Why leave her ghost on the floor for me to find? Why track her through two different continents? ❞ Why did she speak of herself in the third person? It must be the whiskey.

[soruteika]

Hear me out.

What if Tatsu would be Frodo and Frodo would be Tatsu. Let me m ake sense:

What if I were to draw a parallel between Tatsu’s bond with Soultaker and Frodo’s connection with the One Ring?

For Tatsu, Soultaker would not remain just a sword that she holds but something that imprints itself on her? Like she gets superpowers through it, but at a cost? It draws from her? Marks her? And I mean marks that show the weight of its power and the slow toll it takes on her spirit, whether they appear on her skin or show in the way she behaves. That whenever she gets the chance to lay it off, it feels like she can finally breathe again? Soultaker would begin to leave traces that grow harder for her to ignore and it could get borderline dangerous? Maybe the blade feeds on her grief and leaves pale streaks along her arms that look like frostbite or blood poisoning. Maybe it makes her eyes dull during moments when the spirits inside the sword whisper too loudly, make her zone out? Change her posture and the way she holds herself, as if the sword weighs more than its metal could justify. Her emotions might twist in moments of stress, her temper sharper, her being super easy to trigger, her silences colder. None of it was dramatic enough to destroy her, but enough to make it clear that Soultaker feeds on her life in the same way the Ring did with Frodo? No? Ok. :(

[rpclefairy]

removing the border update on images:

you'll need to use the stylus extension (chrome, firefox, opera, github), on mobile you can use this extension on firefox (extensions are not available on ios afaik)

create a style:

set it to work on all sites under the tumblr domain:

copy paste this code:

.GzjsW .CQmeg.lN9Zs.T94I2 > button:after, .GzjsW .CQmeg.lN9Zs.T94I2 > div > button:after, .GzjsW .CQmeg.lN9Zs.T94I2 > figure > div:after { border: none;}

that should be it, now transparent images should no longer have the ugly border.

however, please note that:

this does not remove the rounded border from solid images

this does not remove the color of the post background changing on hover.

this may stop working if tumblr changes things in the future. please don't send me abusive messages about it.

very quick edit:

i figured out how to stop the hovering change in bg color

add this to the same style:

:root {     --content-tint: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0)!important;     --content-tint-strong: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0)!important;     --content-tint-heavy: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0)!important;}

[rpclefairy]

i'm sure xkit rewritten will eventually revert all the changes in one feature, but in the meantime if you also want to remove the rounded corners:

.GzjsW.lN9Zs .T94I2:not(.T94I2 + .T94I2) > :last-child, .GzjsW.lN9Zs .T94I2:not(.T94I2 + .T94I2) > :last-child > div, .GzjsW.lN9Zs .T94I2:not(.T94I2 + .T94I2) > :last-child button, .GzjsW.lN9Zs .T94I2:not(.T94I2 + .T94I2) > :last-child img { border-top-right-radius: 0px!important; border-top-left-radius: 0px!important; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px!important; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px!important; }

[ch0kinghalosarch-deactivated202]

she knows that she's a tough pill to swallow; her particular brand of chaos echoes in the night with laughter that doesn't completely belong to her.  it's gotten better over the years; she's tried to pull it in close, to harness the woman that she is instead of the trauma that punches itself through her veins, reminding her at every corner of the things that she's lost, the personal side of herself that has dissipated in a cloud of smoke.  long gone are the days when she's wrapped around the fingers of a madman  ––  she has left the clown make up behind in favor for something more turned down, something that feels far more her than it ever has been before.  she hasn't seen katana in a while  ––  honestly, she tries to stay away from the people that she meets in the depths of the suicide squad because they are always expendable.  at a certain point when she's one of the only ones to actually walk away, she starts to feel like she's either increasingly lucky or horribly cursed.  really, harley's never entirely sure which she'd rather be.  

tongue tucks against her cheek for a moment before red lips press against the glass.  the scent of alcohol stings her eyes, but the fruity undertones are enough to make her mouth water and want more.  going out for drinks should feel good, mundane even.  for the former jester though, sometimes she wonders if normality is something that she can actually handle.  without a certain amount of chaos, can she sustain herself?  there's also the fact that she doesn't…exactly know how to keep any sort of friends close.  outside of ivy, her friends feel as if they're expendable  ––  mainly because they have bombs in their necks and tend to end up dead on missions that they share.  there's the faintest of upturn of a smile against her lips though, eyes sweeping along dark hair and eyes that she doesn't completely know if she's annoyed with her or amused.  ❝  to becoming out own women  ––  and telling men to suck a dick if they want to stand in the way of our happiness. ❞

@soruteika gets a starter > katana & harley.

[soruteika]

Rather than raise her glass straight away, Tatsu first took a moment to take in Harley's bottom lip and the smeared lipstick on it, reflected along the edge of the glass. Tatsu saw the lipstick as a reflection of Harley's defiance and a mask for heartbreak, just as Harley hid her emotional pain behind glitzy embellishment and loud, chaotic fashion. Because of this, Katana recognised something familiar in her, an understanding born of shared wounds. Emotional traumas often recognise one another. When Tatsu lifted her drink, she lightly tapped her glass against Harley's, both women careful not to make too much noise or draw attention. Tatsu spoke in a dry, emotionless tone when she said, ❝ Normality is overrated, and if you had to stab it within the next week,. ❞ There was the faintest hint of a joke in her voice. Which was everything but usual for the Samurai, who was always too stoic and quiet.

After speaking, Tatsu took a sip of her drink, whiskey, of course, and rested the glass against her knee. As she drank, she gave Harley a brief, judgmental glance, though it softened quickly, revealing more understanding than her words ever did. Tatsu then said, ❝ We are becoming independent women, yes, but we are fighting a battle worth fighting.❞ When Harley mentioned a man standing in the way of her happiness, Tatsu lowered her head thoughtfully before replying, ❝ You do not need to tell that man anything. You can simply step over him or on him, whichever you prefer. Also, not that it is my place to judge, but I do judge, your taste is men is horrible. ❞ That was bold coming from someone who is emotionally attached to her sword. ❝ You should work on that. ❞

[wallcrawls]

he  can't  save  everyone,  so,  when  i  think  of  spider-man,  i  guess  i  —  i  think of  the  weight  of  that.  that  he  keeps  going.  despite  the  failures...  when  i  think  of  spider-man?  i  think,  no  matter  what,  he's  never  going  to  stop  trying.   +   ft.   eli's   peter   benjamin   parker, mixed  media. slow activity  and divorced  from  the  marvel  rpc.

[insectnova]

. 𝐊𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒, 𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙰𝚂𝚂.

[batsnoire]

starter for @soruteika

“What does your sword tell you when you're alone? Does it cry out for blood?” There was no mockery in his voice, just genuine curiosity. He wanted to get to know her better, and the best way to do that was probably to talk to her openly and ask questions. With curiosity and friendliness. Bruce was that kind of person.

[soruteika]

Her eyes lowered, a faint flicker passing through them, something too quick to name. If you were to call it sadness, her blade would taste the blood at your throat. When she spoke again, her voice had thinned into something quieter, edged with a truth she rarely allowed anyone to touch. ❝ It does speak. Not the way people think. Not the way you are asking. ❞ She brushed her fingers along the sheath, almost absentmindedly, though nothing she did was ever without intention. ❝ It is not the sword that cries out. It is the man inside it. My husband. ❞ Her dead husband. ❝ The only thing I have left. ❞ There lay more behind the sorrow-filled tone of her voice as the memory of her dead children danced behind the hues of her eyes, but their names never left her dry lips.

She lifted her gaze back to him, steady, unwavering, a restraint in her expression that made the confession feel heavier than anything she had said before. ❝ He does not ask for blood. He asks for answers he will never receive. He calls my name. He reminds me of the life I buried. And sometimes... sometimes he whispers warnings.❞ Not warnings, he whispered threats. To demand her obedience. But Tatsu was not yet ready to let go, not yet ready to acknowledge that she was still under his control. Her jaw set, the smallest tension tightened her posture. ❝ That is what I hear when I am alone. Not a weapon begging to be fed. A ghost who refuses to stop speaking to me.❞

[archived-mikaels0n-writing]

Elijah had suspected that she would study his reaction and also that she would like his answer. Who knew what was going on in her head and what she really wanted? Besides, it was good to know whether you could lock someone up in the sword if they were threatening you. This sword… it was so unsettling. No one could deny that.

“I don't want you to follow me blindly. I want us to be able to talk about it. I know you can defend yourself, but when Niklaus wants someone as an enemy, they usually end up dead pretty quickly.” He spoke calmly to her again, but he shrugged his shoulders for a moment, as if it didn't matter at all.

Why did everyone believe that Elijah was always plotting something devious? Sure, he was a vampire, an original vampire at that, and he was known for being destructive, but if he warned someone about his brother of his own free will, you could certainly expect more from him. At least that's how he felt. It was almost insulting that they would assume that of him.

“But I probably don't need to tell you that either.” After all, she knew Niklaus, if she had already rejected him. “Or why do you think I want to lure you out? Because I'm working with him? Because I want to trap you?” He licked his lip, moistening it just briefly. His gaze fixed on her.

[soruteika]

At first, Tatsu stood frozen, her eyes seemingly glancing directly past Elijah to the sword at it's resting place, which showed the faintest shine of soul light breathing its way out from within its metal shell. Tatsu felt relief when the sword left her hand, relieving the weight she carried upon her chest, therefore releasing the tension upon her ribs and clearing the fog which clouded her mind. Whenever her hand reached for it, the souls reached back to her and the feeling of drowning in her own sorrow returns, but that was the burden she had to carry, wasn't it?

❝ Soultaker is an ancient weapon that has had many owners before me, evil, weak, and consumed by the power of the blade the instant it tasted their thoughts. Which group I belong to you is up to your judgment. However, I know that my destiny has always been linked to the sword. It was always destined to become mine. Your brother near it, it would not end well as he combines all of them, doesn't he? I will not allow it.. ❞

The air was still around her, as if the world itself held its breath. She tilted her head, studying him like a cat watching its prey with the calm, lethal patience she had shown before striking. ❝Inside that steel, there is one soul that belongs there. It is stronger than the other souls. It is connected to me in ways I cannot speak of. You can feel it too, can you not? Even here, several steps away, it reaches out to me and only to me. ❞ There were secrets she was not ready to tell and probably never would.

Her fingertips lifted slightly off her thigh as if they were reaching toward the sword but the sword was still save on the wall. She had to force her hand back down to her thigh, a symbol of discipline over instinct. Discipline always overrules instinct. ❝ You warn me of Niklaus as if I am walking through life with my eyes open. I see him for what he is. I see you for what you are. Do not pretend that you understand the weight of my burden. When I hold that blade, you are holding something that was carved into my destiny long before me, long before you and your brother were even born.❞

The tone of her voice dipped down like steel sliding through armour. ❝ If anyone attempted to take it from me, I would not need soultaker in order to stop them. I was forged long before Soultaker ever tasted the blood of my victims. ❞

She took a small step towards him until she stood within earshot of the faint hum of hundreds of souls who had been captured and trapped by the sword. Her face was neutral, it did not display trust or aggression, only truth. ❝ You are wrong to think that I want to use or deceive you, but be warned, what you think you know about my past, about this sword, about what I believe in, and about what I will not, is all wrong. ❞ She stood unmoving and unwavering for as long as it took him to make a decision. She kept the moment open.