#deathnied

[eciled-moved]

"some seem / curious, / my friend." as usual, his tone is nearly melodious, smooth in its serenity. single amethyst eye upon the grand general, detlev would seem more entertained if not for fatigue of maintenance. "---as to where i've come from. i do wonder how long my lies will stick. you noxians seem quite cunning when it comes to piecing puzzles together."

 “ Good. Skepticism makes for a healthy people. “

Still. She knows the stolen glances from her guards with his more frequent trips to her throne must exhaust him, how the questions burning in their eyes must prod him like a searing knife. There was nothing even she could say that would quell the curiosity; at best, they would assign to him the label ‘paramour,’ a man who surely worked his way between the Grand General’s thighs.( He hadn’t, but as he stands before her with that glistening eye, Riven finds herself wishing he would. ) 

“ …but, my people tend to err far more on the side of caution than they should, sometimes. I understand if it is getting under your skin. “ Pause. She lilts her head to a slide, blinks a couple of times, then finds a smirk fitting her visage. “ If you wish, we can head somewhere more private. Perhaps somewhere where none shall stare? “

[4thdevil]

the cloaked fellow hums from behind his eye-patch, amethyst gaze upon the ionian. this one has magic, he can clearly see, and while he holds little interest in seeping from it, it's worth noting it nonetheless. "---you're from here, are you not?" his tone is cordial, like the smile upon his lips, but his eye is dead. "could you help a traveler out, perhaps?"

     his question comes to khada jhin in the manner that has him raising an eyebrow , how curious that of all people who could’ve been addressed in the public scene . the stranger chooses him out of the rest , of course , it does not change the fact that he would play along to this civilized act . he meets amethysts with crimsons and a calm , collected smile to his cordial one . the setting makes it a bit difficult to properly address whatever issue the male had at hand as the bustling crowd of the marketplace was nothing short but a cacophonous mess . 

     so with a gloved hand , he motions towards the sidelines that are much more clearer and somewhat distant from the rest . and once they’re pried from the mass , khada jhin takes one more look over the man before him , he notes very obvious features that overall gives away that he is not truly a native , nor does he hold features to which he could deduct possibilities of where he could be from . either way , he takes a moment before he speaks . his guard remaining up .

    ‘   it’s not every day you find a traveler so deep in southern ionia without being aware of it’s landscape . passing through ? either way , what may i assist you with ?   ‘

[fornicaras]

❛ The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the mind to correlate all its contents. ❜

a light smile toyed at the octava espada’s lips. 

of course, he knew the power of the mind. it wasn’t to be trifled with, a particularly sharp man could completely disarm even the strongest brute.szayelaporro understood this little fact perfectly. 

  ‘ tell me, is it that you’re afraid of what you’re capable of? ’

humans were equals part pathetic and fascinating. the mind was filled with untapped potential, that went on ignored, sadly enough. and szayel was more than happy to make use of that potential, if others did not. 

  ‘ not everyone is willing to admit the things they would do, if they were pushed far enough. ’

[purezavacia]

it is by accident he warps into this dimension, all white sand under dark skies — hollow, he'd say. perhaps the traces he's followed of shandra's magic were misguided, or erthal's device is nearing a breakdown. either way, there isn't much he can do now he's come here but wait until he can warp out. he finds one or two strange, lesser creatures ( of violent intent, easily dispatched; he regrets the energy spent ) but it is long until he finds something else. (1/2)

(2/2) when he does, it is in the form of a pallid entity, far more intimidating than the lesser ones. assuming this one capable of more than mindless violence, he cannot help the question. “is there more to this place than… this?” he gestures towards their surroundings and how infinitely morose this dimension seems to be.

In the great stretches of flat, featureless desert, it is easyto spot even the slightest of disturbances from many, many miles away –especially when one’s eyesight is as acute as Ulquiorra’s. And when it’s adesert as monochrome as this, the smallest flash of color was more than enoughto immediately draw his attention.

He arrives at the scene in a flash; careful to maintain at leastsome distance so as not to reveal himself justyet, but still close enough to observe. A stranger – a human? – fresh out of a brief combat between lesser hollows toofool to consider caution before lunging at them, and looking not too worse forwear in spite of that. Clearly this was no ordinary human, but the exact natureof their inhumanness eludes him.Supernatural, yes, but in a way thatUlquiorra has never seen before. It is a distinct feeling to be sure, but he isunable to conjure up a name for it – nothing that he already knows ofsupernatural humans is he able to relate to them.

Needless to say, his curiosity is piqued.

At their approach, his eyes bore into them, analyzing every lastinch of their form and aura (or at least as much as he could; much of themstill puzzles him). And in regards to their question, he replies quietly, “Everythingyou see is all that there is. There is nothing else here – not for humans.”

[princepagan]

   the scale of the room was, perhaps, deceptive; the windows felt larger than anything had any right to be, and the perpetual pouring rain seems to make them blend with the brown and grey striped wallpaper. the fireplace burned a dim white light, and strangely it seemed to illuminate the room slightly more than it should’ve. even the table was larger than it needed to be, a perfect circle supported by four basilisk carvings, and sat across from the guest was the witch-king, a dull brown suit sitting in an extravagant throne made of antlers. 

“ well, see, “ he leans forward to snatch the tea kettle back delicately, pouring more into his fine porcelain glass. “ in britain we typically accept graciously whatever our host gives us. but i can’t blame you if we’re more civilized here in the witching wood. “ he leans back once again and cracks a devious smirk, knowing full well the power he held in this house. in the palace of snakes he was untouchable, immortal, at least against the vast majority, and a century hadn’t dulled his love for flaunting it. 

“ so tell me, foreigner, have you seen this handsome face in any other reality? “ @deathnied