They Won't Survive

[tacetferrum]

Hello, you're probably reading this. Good! It's my pinned.

Please, take a seat and get comfortable, you'll be here a while down in the darkness. While you're at it, please take a look at my;

Rules

Lore

Headcannons

[tacetferrum]

//I wish I could be here more.

[tacetferrum]

//Dad got his esophagus cancer removed so there's that for good news.

[tacetferrum]

//idk does anyone wanna hear about my paladin oc

[tacetferrum]

//To tell you all the truth, I haven't been happy in years.

For several years, at the start of each January, I've felt like killing myself. And each time I have been more than certain I was going to do it. Especially when I ended up self destructing and pushing away a lot of people on here I used to be friends with. The reality is I don't think they'll ever speak to me again, as many years passed. I was being immature and selfish.

This January, for the first time in so long, I felt like I wanted to stay alive.

I'm not happy even still, but the emptiness is not nearly as strong. I don't know if anyone will read this, but I hope anyone feeling in any similar way has help around them.

[tacetferrum]

For @decaeys

The air is cold on the winds. Making it back proved difficult, but he knew how to hold his own against the harshness of the changing seasons. After all, he preferred to remain alone when taking care of himself. Selfishness he had no qualms of embracing in spite of how much he closes the walls in on himself. Regardless, it was always his weapon against those that meant him harm. A defense he could always rely on.

In his quarters, he had resumed a cleansing ritual he always made time for. To purge blemishes and old blood remaining on his knives. He had no interest in remaining exposed to bodily waste. Something he truly detested was a mess of red stains. The thought was nauseating to him. A pause in his movements as he looks to the side.

" ...You've come early. How soon were you told of my arrival? "

He asks in an indifferent tone, knowing the ranger had intent on seeing him this instant. Although, despite his callous nature he had a portion of his soul that remained soft regarding her. The assassin continues to clean his weapon, bringing back to a mirror sheen.

" Or did you see me? " He asks, reminded of her skillful perception.

[decaeys]

scouts had been expressly warned to report to her upon his return; it was not a difficult request, ordering that any human be sent to her upon arrival. her sisters' lovers were nauseating, and the ranger-general would be informed of any interlopers within their lands. the quel'dorei did not take kindly to those from the south. one benefit of her order, however, had been that a single man would be one of the first to alert the rangers positioned at the border.

" not long has passed, " she murmurs, stepping closer without asking for permission, " I told my rangers to stand down, that I would seek you out myself. I do believe they think I might gut you where you stand, unless you make a case for yourself. "

there is a coldness to her voice, a sharpness that cuts like steel to the unfortunate listener. something akin to rage -- but not quite -- aches in her chest, compelling her to step closer still. sylvanas reaches a gauntleted hand towards him, placing it firmly on his shoulder in the hopes to turn him to face her.

" you did not warn me of your coming. no letter, no sign. you left without saying goodbye. I thought you had abandoned this place, " in her eyes, a different tale: I thought you had abandoned me.

[tacetferrum]

The assassin was soon to stop in his attentiveness to his blade. He slowly turned his head around to look at her. His eyes, the most notable feature that could be seen from the depths of his hood. They pierced at Sylvanas with an indifference. But they both knew it was a shield to his true feelings.

The reality was he was hurting on the inside.

" I never stay around for long. I told you this long ago. I have my reasons for leaving. "

He uses few words in such a cruel way. His directness lacking tact as always. One could argue his blades caused less mortal harm. He turns to the left as he approached the desk of the room. Golden hues looming over the tools he had left there, as he reaches for one. A whet stone for his blade. He placed the clean white rag down.

" Those reasons since then have been rectified and dealt with. "

Another answer he uses to coat the truth with, like a poison on a blade. His own way of saying he wasn't going to go further on what it was. Not that it mattered anymore.

[tacetferrum]

For @decaeys

The air is cold on the winds. Making it back proved difficult, but he knew how to hold his own against the harshness of the changing seasons. After all, he preferred to remain alone when taking care of himself. Selfishness he had no qualms of embracing in spite of how much he closes the walls in on himself. Regardless, it was always his weapon against those that meant him harm. A defense he could always rely on.

In his quarters, he had resumed a cleansing ritual he always made time for. To purge blemishes and old blood remaining on his knives. He had no interest in remaining exposed to bodily waste. Something he truly detested was a mess of red stains. The thought was nauseating to him. A pause in his movements as he looks to the side.

" ...You've come early. How soon were you told of my arrival? "

He asks in an indifferent tone, knowing the ranger had intent on seeing him this instant. Although, despite his callous nature he had a portion of his soul that remained soft regarding her. The assassin continues to clean his weapon, bringing back to a mirror sheen.

" Or did you see me? " He asks, reminded of her skillful perception.

[tacetferrum]

//Genuinely did not expect a VO of any kind, let alone his old va!

[tacetferrum]

//What if I came back indeed...

[tacetferrum]

//Tragically, this blog is dead and I only post here when I feel like it.

[tacetferrum]

September 22nd

There's no rhyme or reason to the scene I've encroached upon. The victims were my lives to take, but someone already got to them. When I look upon their bodies, I can't make out any discernable cuts or stabs.

But I can see punctures. Holes made in the body from a force beyond that of human strength. A projectile based weapon, by my guess. They weren't done in by arrows or throwing spear-- This had been done by a weapon I've only read about in documents making account of guns.

However, guns here aren't a regular occurrence.

And something about the wounds were unnatural. It's hard to say it, but, their injuries come in the shape of flowery design. Not unlike vines stretching out and reaching around.

After I gave it some time to look over, I've also noticed the bodies weren't in any particular struggle. Like someone wanted their victims to be in these specific spots. A pattern.

A pattern of fours. Parallel to each other even when far from their former comrades.

[tacetferrum]

//I may do a cull soon, and I'd like for any people who want to stay mutuals to like this post.

[tacetferrum]

//The worst thing someone can do is force Talon to wear Noxus's colors, to be honest. Completely goes against any perceived absence of obedience to his nation he has.

[tacetferrum]

" The audacity... "

[tacetferrum]

" I do not 'look' Noxian because I have no desire to. Is that so hard to understand? "

[tacetferrum]

//Huh?!

[tacetferrum]

//My mom is gonna be okay, we're not out of the woods but we're going to be highly critical of her recovery