#adversariel

[l1tterae]

  @adversariel​  required  kai  parker.

"  𝐝𝐢𝐝  𝐲𝐨𝐮  𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰  𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞  𝐢𝐬  lot  of  people  writing  songs  about  you  ?  same  people  who  admires  you  as  well  ?  how  does  it  felt  ?  being  a  god  ?  “  as  if  he  doesn’t  know  the  answer  to  that  himself.  though,  people  doesn’t  scream  his  name  out  of  fascination  but  more  as  annoyance.  hanging  here  in  hell  seemed  to  be  the  thing  he  loved.

[sinnhelmingr]

💋 // @adversariel

A kiss for courage, that’s what boys so often claimed with laughter on their tongues. Who, in all the realms, was bolder than the Morningstar? His name was in the heart of every rebel, of all those who dared to be more than their design. Hel was certain of one truth:

She would have need of such fortitude.

Yet courage did not come on its own. Something so perfect, so beautiful, ached inside of her. It ached in her nerves too, a reminder of the valleys and cracks that lined her monstrous half. Just looking at him was enough to unmake her. His lips, then, would have been the sweetest, surest poison. Even a glancing blow could prove fatal against such an effective weapon.

How could he stand to look at her?

Hel bowed her head, ebony locks hiding her face from view. Gloved digits rose to the hand of her host, ghosting across his flesh. She should burn for such offense, for the assumption that she could touch him without bursting into fame. In the same moment, as the warmth of him settled into her cold hand, she realized a single truth: His Father was a fool. If Lucifer were her own, she would never have let him stray from her. She would forgive him every crime, for the curve of his nose alone.

Her lips brushed, penitent pilgrims, across his knuckles. She risked no more than that. It failed to make her brave, but she knew in her heart she would dream of his hand and his dark curls all her life long. Drawing back, respectable, nothing more than a foreign god paying tribute to the First of the Fallen, she raised her eyes.

It was done. If he had not stolen the voice from her throat as surely as he had the sense from her had, then they could proceed with their forum.

[the27percent]

“ why should i trust you? ”  

That's a good question and Atieno knows well that they don't really have a lot of immediate answers to that. Why should anyone trust a being like them? For all kinds of presences out there, that could mean ill or just don't care about so much - what purpose is there in placing trust in the likes of them.

They get the skepticism, they really do. It's hard for them to begrudge it really.

So they're quiet for a few beats.

"I'm not in a position to say what you should or shouldn't do. Especially not when it comes to who you choose to trust. It's such a fragile and fickle thing... I can't blame you for being reluctant.

I wish I could make a good argument about my .. trustworthiness. But that would feel like putting on airs that I'm not convinced would fit me or whatever you may be looking for.

So it's a risk either way, I figure it's up to you to determine how much of a risk I am. "

[the27percent]

“ what do you want in exchange for it? ”  

Atieno considers the offer for a little bit. Offers were always such a bizarre, strange thing for them to try and fathom. Most things that people valued, they didn't really care for the material worth despite appreciating a nice thing here and there.

So the idea of exchanging any particular good - although they understood the nature of trades, exchanges, their sheer necessity from time to time.. it always felt a little peculiar for them to deal with it on a personal level.

This was why they felt like they were at a loss for words.

"I suppose it would depend on what you're willing to offer. I don't exactly keep strict prices or anything like that."

They could only get a sense of what seemed like an offer made out of actual interest and someone just trying to grab something for the sheer sake of it.