so can we all just agree here that dec has no eyes
he doesnt have his bangs that long to cover his eyes, he has his bangs that long to cover the fact that he doesn't have eyes. tucker cracks a joke like "how do you see, man?" and dec just very casually and 100% seriously responds with "i don't" however nobody ever figures it out because they all figure that the answer was a joke and its never brought up again
what if declan was the one to turn to the darkness? (moderate angst)
Declan had never wanted to be the Priest. He watched the squabbles and arguments of the gods with a heavy sense of disappointment. The gods, the immortal beings that were supposed to guide the dimension in harmony and peace, were nothing more than bickering children. They had no regard for the human lives of their realm; with no way to communicate with the people, they simply disregarded them. They caused destruction and chaos among his people, created grief and terror, yet did nothing to fix their errors.
Disgusted by the actions of the godlings, Declan did his best to disregard them. He married the woman he loved, and had a little boy. The only skilled warrior in the land, he spent much of his son’s childhood training him in the ways of a warrior. His life was quaint, peaceful, and perfect.
Until the gods called upon him. With sweet promises little better than threats, they persuaded him to take up the mantle of the Priest. Though reluctant, Declan accepted. After all, he still had his family. But there was one thing the gods neglected to tell him - in becoming the Priest, he was granted the curse of immortality.
Things seemed to only grow worse for him, bit by bit. His wife, his anchor, left him shortly after. The loss of his wife to a despicable drunken lord brought him close to the point of desolation. Having harboured a strong love for her since they were young, seeing her abandon him at the first chance was the first time he truly understood the meaning of a loss.
Despite this, Declan was determined to protect his son. He was the only strong connection he had left to the human world, a world he needed to protect from the whims of irresponsible gods. For a time, they were happy. A decade passed, and he had the joy of seeing his son grow into a bright, energetic young man, just as skilled in the ways of a warrior as Dec had once been. Before long, though, his boy was pleading to be allowed to travel the world. He wanted to see everything, explore everything, experience everything. It was impossible for Dec to deny his son this wish, despite his urge to keep the young man close at his side where he would be safe. The day he watched his son sail away from the port of his small village was the second time he experienced a heart-wrenching loss.
Months later, when he received a letter in an unfamiliar hand, informing him of his son’s tragic death in a zombie attack, he lost his son again.
With no one left to keep him attached to his past life, Declan threw himself into his role as Priest with a new sense of vigour. He found himself able to settle the young gods when they grew irate, able to encourage sensibility, and most importantly, able to show them the value of a human life. While every day proved to be a new struggle in helping the gods forge their futures, he found himself with a new sense of purpose.
Until the gods’ champions arrived.
At first he was thrilled, thrilled to encounter people who could communicate with the gods like he did. He felt truly close to them, closer than to any other human in a millenium. Their antics were amusing, but watching them bring the gods closer to humanity was what they really achieved. But as the decades passed, the heroes quickly died off, risking their lives to help maintain their ideals in the world, to spread the word of their gods. And before long, he was alone again. He learned of a new type of loss, the loss of a friend.
The centuries passed, and Dec found himself traversing the different dimensions, meeting new versions of the gods so familiar to him, champions that reminded him of that first group he met, and the friendships he formed with them. In every dimension he faced loss after loss, of champion and of god. Still, he continued to bridge the gap between humanity and the gods, determined to do his best to keep the realms safe.
But when the Darkness approached him, a being he had read of in ancient texts as being highly destructive, he didn’t shun the creature. Instead, he invited it in for a cup of tea. “You can have unlimited power. You can find your true potential alongside me, Priest.” Declan surveyed the hooded creature with a tired, yet amused expression.
“I have plenty of power, believe me. Any other offers?”
“Tell me what it is you desire, Priest, and I will tell you if I can provide it.”
Declan’s faint smile faded, and his youthful frame seemed to sag under an immense weight as he thought for a moment. “You know what I would like,” he lifted his chin to look headlong at the being sitting opposite him, as he set his cup onto the small coffee table, “I’d like to never lose anyone, ever again. I’m tired, Darkness. I’ll admit this freely, I’m tired of existing only to find more problems that need solving, to meet people I’ll have to watch die eventually.” Settling back into his chair, he tilted his head inquisitively. “Would you be able to give this to me?”
The Darkness was quiet for a short time, stirring its untouched cup of tea with a small spoon. “Yes,” it finally said, “I do believe I can make this deal with you. You do understand, of course, that from this point on you will be under my control entirely, Priest?”
Declan nodded as he rose from his chair extending a hand to the being. “Of course.” The Darkness reached out a skeletal arm draped in the gauzy black material of its cloak, taking hold of Declan’s hand with a grip stronger than steel. It held him for a moment, without speaking, before dropping his hand. Declan instantly yanked his hand back, rubbing it with his other hand. It felt as though the moment the Darkness had released him, an electrical current shot through his skin. Aside from that, he didn’t feel any different. He couldn’t feel his hand touching the other… he couldn’t feel.
I wonder if... Dec walked briskly over to the brick fireplace adorning the small room with a blank look on his face. Without hesitating a moment, he punched the brick mantle with as much force as he could muster. His knuckles popped audibly, and the skin was slightly torn - but he felt nothing. “Impressive, I must say. But is this necessary?” The Darkness bowed slightly, otherwise completely motionless.
“In order to forsake the feelings of your mind, it was necessary to remove the physical as well. I expect you to be ready for when I call upon you.”
“Indeed.” He gave a small nod to the Darkness, and watched it drift silently from the room. With a deep sigh, Declan resumed his seat, his gaze empty as he studied the teacups sitting in front of him. At least he couldn’t regret his actions.
Because on that day, he lost his last connection to humanity.
catching up on mianitian isles slowly but surely am i caught up yet no did i draw art anyway yes. this was kinda inspired by this post which is inspired by another post that they link that doesnt work for me but thats ok. i love witnessing panic from a far via sparklez
