#deathvow

[priest-archives]

"My name is Death. I am formidable. I am merciful. I am absolute. I am the last friend you will ever kiss."

Dāya, The Death Vow

[gaileon]

@deathvow

✦ —— ❝ so, uh... ❞ it's not often he has to rely on a vocal pause, thinking just speaking from the heart the easiest and best route normally; however, with nothing to say, alm falters and uses it as a crutch. he had been hoping to run into the man sometime before his coronation ceremony, but now that the man was in front of him, he realizes he didn't plan a course of action.

         heh. yet somehow that was just like him. he supposes celica did more than enough thinking for the both of them. when that thought enters his head, his troubles seem like nothing at all suddenly for an answer comes to him albeit a clumsy one-- a casual one more fitting for him than any grand order or big question: ❝ you wanna grab a drink ? i got some wine from back home and i don't really drink too much. ❞

[piouspromise]

“ i’m not afraid of death, i think it’ll be peaceful. ” oh no why would he say that Shut Up esch

When he says those words, it seems to be entirely out of nowhere. They’re not in the midst of battle, or being held on the Ark and forced to fight to the death. It’s quiet…all of the kids have been put to bed, all of the chores have been taken care of, and the two of them can just sit together, enjoying the calmness around them as they hold each other. So for him to say that…his mind must be far away from where they are now. She looks up at him worriedly, her brows knitting together as she tries to read his expression for signs of trouble.

“I…I can’t imagine what might have brought that on, Escher…“ The closeness between them doesn’t seem close enough as she tries to push away the unpleasant thoughts that threaten to rush to the forefront of her mind. Escher, dying…once upon a time, it was a thing that she wished to see happen before her, and at the end of her sword. She’d almost witnessed his death during the Ark Arena, and it may very well have happened if not for her decision to tell him what he needed to know in order to stand once more.

The threat of the disease that threatened his life, whatever it might have been, is no longer, though it left plenty of damage in its wake. Even now, she feels a sense of dread with the onset of chilly weather for fear of how it might affect his health. If she hears him cough, she’s at his side in an instant to check if there’s any blood. And of course, she could never kill him…not after how far they’ve come. Yet, his promise not to die unless it’s by her sword remains.

She nestles into the place he’s made for her between the crook of his arm and his side, trying to think of what to say. She doesn’t want to think about losing him, but at this moment, she has to. While she sincerely hopes that he won’t die anytime soon…well, it would be cruel for her to wish upon him anything but peace. For a man who’d known so much pain, cruelty, and turmoil, he deserves comfort at the very end. But…that end won’t be coming anytime soon, will it? Escher is here with her…he’s so warm. Every single time he smiles or laughs, even the times he gets angry or remembers his painful past…the times that they disagree and exchange harsh words (though she’s almost always the one speaking harshly), and of course the times he kisses her with sweet affection or burning desire, the times they make love, and the times where late at night when he thinks she’s sleeping, he brings her closer to him and softly whispers in her ear that he loves her…all of those moments are beautiful simply because he’s alive.

She feels the sting of tears forming in her eyes and the tightness in her chest that accompanies them. Just the idea of a life without Escher is enough to make her cry…she doesn’t want to let him know she’s so bothered by the thought, though, so she snuggles up to him, resting her head against his chest.

And then, she hears it. That steady rhythm that serves as another reminder that Escher is here with her, alive and well. All of these thoughts of losing Escher are just thoughts. The cadence of his heart beating freely and easily, as it’s no longer weighted down by illness, or a life of crime necessary for survival…

Finally, she speaks up, looking up at him and no longer caring that she’s crying. “Maybe it’d be peaceful for you, Escher…but you’re not alone anymore. There are too many people that care about you, and they’d be devastated to lose you! Me crying, that’s one thing, but all those little ones, fast asleep upstairs…would you really leave me to dry their tears along with my own?” She can’t help but laugh a little as she says that; she knows what his answer would be, after all.

“Instead of thinking about the peace of death…think about the peace of moments like this one! Or…about the calmness you feel when your fingers touch the keys of a piano, or how satisfying it is when all the kids tell you how good your cooking is. Think about the feeling of the warm sunlight on your face, or how bright the stars are on a clear night…or whatever it is that makes you happy. All that makes your life worth living…”

She gently wraps her arms around his neck. “But above all, Escher…please. Don’t think about dying. Think about how you’re going to make the most of the time you have on this planet that we, along with our now-irreplaceable friends, fought so hard to save. It’s too sad otherwise…”

[sireneia-a]

@deathvow

✦ —— ❝ oh dear, pardon me ! ❞ the saint takes a step back after colliding with the mercenary. how clumsy of her. this is what she gets for walking around an unfamiliar palace with no escort. ❝ please do forgive me. i came here to look for general zeke... but i'm afraid i don't know north from south in these halls. ❞ her face visibly brightens when she says her lover's name, her expression the very picture of infatuation.

[piouspromise]

The words fall from her mouth without her even thinking as she watches him crouch down on the ground like a wounded animal. His current, pathetic state is fitting for someone who kills with so little regard for human life. For someone who considers himself a real predator as he seems to, his own body seemingly rejecting the wretched soul that inhabits it in such a painful way is more than deserved.

This place must be meddling with her sanity, though. The gods will always forgive even their most sinful child, if that person seeks their forgiveness. They never abandon anyone; if anything, humans are the ones who abandon the gods and the spirits. Escher is clearly not the sort of person to seek out forgiveness from the gods, however, so he may never get it.

She can’t help but flinch as more blood comes up from his throat before her eyes...it’s painful to watch, even if the person in such a state is more than deserving of that pain and more. His face contorted in anguish and frustration as his usually gleaming white teeth are turned red, blood dripping down his chin while he’s bent over as if the weight of his sinful existence is crushing him...he truly looks like the monster she knows he is. So why is it that she struggles when gets to witness such greatly deserved suffering? There’s an emotion she can’t quite place, and it’s not pity. He deserves none of that. It isn’t the reminder of teachings from the priest and the sisters who treated her like family, either. While they may very well be calling to her from the afterlife, telling her to remember the importance of mercy and forgiveness, his sins are too great for her to forgive...especially when he shows no signs of contrition at all.

And then, more blasphemy pours from his lips, and the ease with which he spouts such abominable things is in stark contrast to his body, tense and twisted with pain as he hacks up his own blood, breathing raggedly as if the exertion of merely living is too much.

He’s in a pitiful state, but she has no intention of softening her words for the likes of him. “You should care. If you repent while you still have the chance to do so, then you might have the opportunity to make it to heaven. I’m sure that’s the only place left where there’s any love for you.” She can’t stop herself from baring her teeth in fury, as if the ferocity of the creatures they’ve been fighting are finding life anew within her. “Then again, if you’re stupid enough to believe they can actually give us immortality, and I know you’re heartless enough to kill other people to try and get it regardless...then maybe you don’t think you’ll have to worry! But the gods and the spirits always find a way to strike down the wicked, Escher...so while you may live forever, it’ll be a life filled with misery.”

His attack seems to be finished at about the same time as her words of caution, and he stands to his full height, spitting out the blood that’s left over. What he says next, though, she can’t quite understand. The words, yes, but the real meaning seems to be lost. It’s clear, however, that he’s trying to instill fear, or at the very least give her a warning.

He’s skilled with his sword, and she knows what he’s capable of. He also surpasses her in both stature and strength. Yet she doesn’t back down, instead choosing to bring herself physically closer to him.

“Are you threatening me, even though you know it could cost you your life to try and fight me? You’re hardly a patient man at all...I wouldn’t expect you to be able to hold out on killing anyone long enough to be granted immortality anyway. Your need for violence surpasses any others you might have.” /continued from here.

[piouspromise]

“ please… just kiss me. ” beep boop

At first, she pauses; hearing Escher make such sincere pleas out of the blue like that is a rarity. Be that as it may, though…he sounds tired. Troubled, even. Maybe, as he held her, just moments following the light being turned off, Escher already anticipated that he’d have trouble sleeping, or that he’d be plagued by nightmares. She doesn’t like pry too much into his past or his worries…she’s found that it’s best to let him make the first move on that front, so that he doesn’t pull back from her even more.

Even so, she can satisfy a simple and honest request that might make him feel better, at least for the time being. She smiles sleepily at him, moving up toward his face.

“Of course…” she tells him, almost in a whisper. “As many times as you want…” She can’t help but take a little time to trace her fingers gently over his features, being able to make them out somehow as the very tips of her fingers seem to possess memories of his face in all of its sheer perfection.

She starts by pressing her lips softly against his forehead, lingering there for some time before moving on to give him a little kiss on the very tip of his nose. She kisses one cheek, and then the other, and then right beneath the meeting of his jaw and his ear. She hopes he’s feeling as much at ease from receiving her kisses as she is from giving them.

Finally, she gives him the longest one yet, delivering that to his lips. She stays there for a while, taking her time. They have plenty of it.

“I have more, as I always do for you,” she tells him, gently brushing his hair off to the side. “So you’ll have to tell me when you’ve gotten enough.”

[priest-archives]

"I'm like the moon in that, I am cold and unfeeling, a pale imitation of life-giving light. Deceitful and fickle in my beauty. They are like the night in that, They hold you when no one else will. They envelop you in a blanket of quiet and forgiving glory, a chance to lie your head in Their lap after the day's worry. "

-Ārjava, The Death Vow (Abigail Priest)

[priest-archives]

Here's your reminder you don't need AI for your covers. There's an entire world of public domain art. (Gustave Dore here, from The Dore Bible)