#burntivoryking

[crimson-errant]

"What are your feelings regarding the Undead curse?"

The curse affects everyone.

Our world already suffers from war, from greed, from fear. It suffocates us, disables us, and halts our ability to heal.

From within the walls of Lindelt, I could only imagine — Drangleic’s war with the Giants, Mirrah’s conflicts with Forossa, the impoverished of Volgen; Many sought refuge from the madness, and fearful as we were, Lindelt had turned all away, banished beyond our borders.

I understood only when I left Lindelt. We were so blinded by our faith that we had so little trust to offer…

The moment we saw the Cursed as something less than human, the moment we turned on our own brothers and lost our compassion; We lost any chance of solving this, together. We might as well have been cursed to die, as well.

I will find a cure, and we will heal this world.

[equitable-death-blog]

((11))

A drabble in which my muse is forced to fight against a loved one.

All those who desecrated the silent sanctity of this place were to be eliminated. This was part of his task, the purpose for which he and his comrades had been crafted. The figure before him need not hide its face in such a manner, feigning shame, asking forgiveness with pleading eyes. The Fenito were not all without compassion or understanding-- Agdayne cared even to think that they understood more than humans-- but this being's actions had been deliberate and without thought of the consequences. His own shortcomings regarding distaste for fulfilling this chore were void of meaning. 

Darkdrift weighed in his palm, as though the blade itself was protesting to the letting of this, particular one's blood. He defied this notion, however, drawing the sword forth, steadying it between himself and his target. 

He and his companions converged upon the cornered grave warden, tainted blood spilling across the bricks in a matter of moments. Their numbers had already thinned to unacceptable levels; treachery was lower even than the remainder of the Old Dead One's children, in their desperation, would abide for longer than mere seconds. 

[contractiism-blog]

&. █ █ burntivoryking.

            '                i am J U S T doing my job. '

[sanctum-flore]

"Might I request a few flowers from you?"

                 { ❃ } “—Of course! A few flowers is all you ask?”

     the Cetra inquired, flashing the stranger a slight, yet warm smile. 

Turning swiftly to her cart, Aerith chose three of the brightest blooms

she had picked.

                                          "Will these do?"

[sunlight-solaire]

"Well, aren't you a growing young knight, little one!"

"Thank you for the compliment, sir," the squire spoke as he gave a formal bow. He was not certain who this man was, but judging by his armor and demeanor it was likely he was someone of great importance. A high ranking knight or a noble or a diplomat — perhaps even a ruler. All that could be certain was that he was a foreigner and far, far above a simple squire. Solaire was sure to be at his best behavior.

[equitable-death-blog]

Bygone. [ closed; burntivoryking ]

The longing call of the crypt pulled hard at his chest. It felt as though his sternum would collapse upon itself, yanked backward against his spine. This damned cold was not helping his cause, either. It nipped at all of his extremities, his nerves feeling as though they burned beneath his meager coverings. Evidently, Fenito were not crafted for the snow. 

The blasted stuff was everywhere, the sun creating a bright sheen across its surface which often blinded his eyes; more than a few times, Agdayne had to stop and shield his face with his hands, letting out a pained grimace on each occasion. A colorful curse slipped past his lips. He had never intended to travel this far for assistance, despite the desperation with which it was needed. 

It was not often he had cravings for human sustenance, possessing no need for it, but what he would do for a scalding cup of tea right now. Such a relatively short journey to this land, for such a vast change in climate. Bringing his arms in more tightly, he hardly looked up after sighting the spires of the castle in the distance. 

The wind had taken his over-sized hood from him many times over now, forcing him to walk bent forward a little, one shaking fist gripping the worn hem of the flimsy traveling cloak. He was fairly certain the bottom seam, at least, was frosted over. Making his way through the villa, making eye contact with no one and nothing, his back protested to finally being straightened with several, loud, creaks and pops.

At last, he stood before the final obstacle: stairs. Maker smite me now.

[aequitxs]

                       ◣ burntivoryking from this. ◥

                          ' w   what is it you're referring to ?                          EXPLAIN yourself ! '

[equitable-death-blog]

☭

Round One... Fight!

Battle intro: "It shall be finished soon."Victory: "Rest now, as all else."Defeat: "F- Forgive me... My maker..."Assist: "Together, then. Highness."Taunt: "Your suffering shall be eased."Reacting to Taunt: "Step nearer. Again."Flee: "I... I made a mistake..."Reacting to Flee: "Not a hero among them."Tie: "How has this... Happened?"Perfect Victory: "Sleep. You have earned this rest."Finishing Move: "Be not afraid, death accepts all."