#aeternumvxle

[diimm]

@aeternumvxle​

                      OFFER A LICK OF BLOOD,  then watch the beast devour !  passivity looks hideous on those bred for chaos, dogs choking on their rusted chains.  why he swallows his appetite, gaunter will never understand.

                      ❛   caliban, ca - li - ban ——   ❜   he taunts with a hum that could raise the dead, deceivingly sympathetic & uplifting.   ❛   —— won't you sit with me for a spell ?   ❜

[cursedandcarried-blog]

“Now I have something I want to protect. It’s you.”

“I am sorcerer, remember? I can take care of myself. I could level this entire resort if I wanted to.” Lothric sticks a chunk of peach into his moth. “...I wouldn’t though, I’m not an evil sorcerer.”

[cursedandcarried-blog]

“I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you got hurt on my watch.”

“Well... my brother would be upset with you, so I’d say it’s up to him.” Lothric keeps on slicing up his peach with a frightening ritual blade Lorian had brought back from one of his missions. 

[griefcloaked]

Caliban gags on heavy tears, lips and hands trembling as he reaches out to Dettlaff. It was evident that he was in distress. Barely forming words, he begins to speak "They killed him- They killed... m..y friend!" Torn between two feelings; that of rage and despair.

all too quickly does dettlaff take caliban’s trembling hands into his own, gripping further down and onto his forearms as he supports the other, keeping him on his feet as he is weighed down heavily by an aching heart. his own heart ached to see his friend is such misery, yet he could do little to sooth him. caliban’s tear stained face and woeful eyes looked up at dettlaff attempting to form words, wishing to explain this spell, this much dettlaff could tell, but he was patient. a hand taking from supporting his friend now strokes the side of his face softly. it does very little help. at length caliban, at last, spoke, throat still choking on tears as he stumbled through his words. 

hearing this, dettlaff was quick to pull caliban further into him, cradling him as he should have done when first he arrived. dettlaff sighed deeply. presently his hand was placed atop caliban’s head and he proceeded to stroke. 

❝ i am sorry, my friend. ❞ at last dettlaff spoke. ❝ it is a grave loss to you i am sure. i do not recall ever seeing you so broken. however, know this, i shall find those who have wronged you by slaying your friend and i shall make them pay. this, i swear to you. ❞

[rashiidakazan]

@aeternumvxle

       While this seemed to be more of a job for a detective, the client insisted that this whole ordeal was a supernatural matter. While said client had never said anything directly to the shopkeep, he had talked to several who had. An older man, he remembered the original shopkeeper, Caliban, who had opened the store in the first place, looking exactly like the current one, who claimed he was the original’s grandson.

        Again, this seemed very trivial; plenty of descendants shared resemblance with their ancestors, and the man was old-- an easy slip of the mind or trick on the eyes could be a simple explanation, but there was something that intrigued the Witcher into taking the contract: the old man told her that his other customers around Novigrad had contradicting memories of Caliban. Some said he looked exactly like the grandfather, others would say they looked nothing alike, hair and eye color even being different. Some would say, after months of him being out of the store on one of his travels and then returning, that he hadn’t aged a day, and some would say he looked much older than when he left, and others would say that he never left the shop at all and had been working there the entire time.

       To her, it sounded like some sort of memory magic, or hypnosis. Perhaps the man was a mage that didn’t wish to be outed by the witch burners as one. That, or Novigrad was just full of fear-mongering, nosy peasants that had nothing better to do but stir up more hysteria than there already was in this gods-forsaken shithole of a Nordling city.

         Either way, she was getting paid to investigate, so whatever. The bell at the top of the store’s door jingled as it opened, and she was greeted with the scent of sweet-smelling herbs and the sight of all sorts of beautiful garments. Catlike eyes landed on one corset in particular that she thought would look great on her...