#horcoss

[draculyr-a]

lyrical starter call x |  i am dust by gary numan @horcoss​ liked for alfred. 

he liked to pretend that it was his own excited imagination  that brought life to the shadows on the wall,    rather than the lonely ghosts that danced across the pale stone day in and night out.      they called to mind too many dances that would result in his angry and bitter lamenting late in the summer evenings,  when no one could see his temper.  

                       grim eyes fell on the young man for what felt like the hundredth time in the last minute,  haunted and cold.    " we’re here waiting for you. "

[leechfeared]

@horcoss​​ | liked 

               “ya gunna eat that?” 

[feargrown-a]

❝THAT’S  A  STRANGE  PAINTING❞  reminded  him  of  the  one  in  fathers  office.  Reminded  him  of  the  LADY  with  the  flute  that  scared  him  to  death.  Made  him  SCREAM  his  lungs  out  &  make  a  run  for  it.  Stanley  could  not  pull  his  gaze  away  from  the  painting  on  the  wall --  ❝almost  looks  like  it  is ...❞  a  gulp.  ❝STARING  AT  US❞

@horcoss​ liked ! currently capped !

[corcullum]

                        Would you rescue me? Would you get my back?                             Would you take my call when I start to crack?                                                    Would you rescue me?

for @horcoss

[vernades]

@horcoss -- ;

Since being revealed at all, word of Velaris was one already passed into legend. Amarantha’s rule in those past fifty years had been unspeakably cruel, and that even a sliver of the Night Court had not only remained intact, but hadn’t been discovered at all was widely gossiped throughout Prythian--especially since Sypha had reached its shores just days ago. Compared to the Hewn City, Velaris scintillated like a vale of stars in the silvery moonlight, light undulating prettily on the Sidra’s surface. Construction scaffolding and rebuilding segments shone in the moon’s glow, especially radiant in a pall as Sypha stepped from the ferry that moored itself to the shoreline. 

If only the same could be said for the rest of the world. Their native Dacia--a mortal kingdom--was in an uproar from what had occurred. Immortal beings were being vengefully hunted in turn, word of Hybern’s brutality stoking the fires of yet another war of the like from centuries ago. Half-lele themselves, their ilk were being slaughtered like cattle, and it wasn’t even the worst of it. These thoughts haunted Sypha in their long sojourn to the House of Wind, anticipation thrumming at the prospect of meeting Prythian’s most powerful High Lord, his kinder face only recently revealed. 

Steeling themselves, Sypha shed their hood and put their staff aside, standing in polite reception. Better to make a better impression regardless if the High Lord of the Court of Dreams or Nightmares made himself apparent that eve.

[collectedbooks]

horcoss replied to your post:

bold of you to assume it’s only google 😇

the bentley’s radio in the background: I WANT TO BREAK FREE!! I WANT TO BREAK FREEE!!!!!!

[weirdtongued]

@horcoss summoned for a starter // lord beelzebub 

        “It’s what I said. They are burning witches – well, only a few of them are actual witches. Innocent women, the lot of them. And it’s not only Spain, there’s... France and... and England, it’s hot as hell out there, with all the fire.” 

         To Crowley, watching the Spanish Inquisition bloom on earth like a bloody flower hasn’t been a vacation, exactly. It was a harsh thing to watch, and after attending a couple of witch-burnings he found himself getting meticulously drunk for the first time this century. And the worst part is, of course, that the humans thought it up themselves, with no demonic intervention, whatever he might have said before – that it was his achievement, one of the greatest things he’s ever come up with. 

          “And I... taught them to build new torturing machines. They come in all sorts – knee-splitters, head-crushers, racks, multiple kinds of racks... I’ve brought you a little souvenir, you are going to love it. Here,” he fakes a grin, holding out the smallest of all the devices he’s had the misfortune to see. “It’s called a thumbscrew.” 

[godmeld-archive]

❛[ ● REC] ⌦ @horcoss​ : from that old starter call I dont wanna search for

   `OH, HE WASN’T TOO HIDDEN ABOUT WHO HE WAS ‘AFTER ALL, WITH HIS SHOWS HE SPLAYED HIMSELF FOR ALL TO SEE. However, it was easier for most to claim the stuff he did to his body to be FALSE behind the monitor of a computer (REALITY HAD STRINGS THAT COULD BE PULLED / CERTAINLY / BUT NOT AS EASILY). And yet despite the fact Riain was reconstructing his face, replacing TEETH AND FLESH when he heard another, it was an unphased referring he gave to the other.     ❝-—You wouldn’t happen to have a cloth or tissue on you, would you?❞     Surely in reference to a bit of the LIQUID tainting a reforming humans face. (AND GIVEN HIS CHOICE OF HUMAN FORM WAS TRULY THAT / CHOICE / AS HE HAD LEARNED, HE WAS EVEN LESS WORRIED ABOUT BEING SEEN THEN HE WOULD IN THE PAST).