dying to see Mohg in D2 tbh
from outfit meme [accepting!!]
why he shaped™ like that

seen from China
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Maldives
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Maldives

seen from Hungary
seen from Albania
dying to see Mohg in D2 tbh
from outfit meme [accepting!!]
why he shaped™ like that
@irregulator || continued.
"It's a sudden and quite dangerous request," he admitted simply, albeit without prompting. It seemed to be the potential elephant in the room, which he would address by immediately shooting down this proverbial beast to make way. "You're entitled to generous payment, and you will get it — should you accept."
Money and weapons were always a given, of course. The standard for any such negotiations. Antonín merely nodded at the mention. Casual in his bearing, he leaned back on his plush seat and sipped on fully organic alcohol while ignoring the overload of substances displayed on the small table before them. They occupied a VIP booth in this club, accompanied by none but distantly loud music and the occasional human noise; patrons satisfying cravings for pleasure and pain in every corner of the establishment.
(Meanwhile, a precise number of his anonymous bodyguards lurked among them.)
Yet the implication of personal exchanges caused a slight disturbance in his otherwise inexorable resolve, anticipating some possible turn of events in a conversation he had deemed typical trade talk until then. "What value does that information have to you?"
Blackmail and/or leverage, he imagined. The question was posed as a conversational detail, though. Antonín smiled, even. Colour him curious... and somewhat amused, emphasising the naturally delicate carving of his features. Not a single piece of metal or modification in sight.
"I can understand your urge to know what exactly I'm doing here, high stakes and all, but personal information is a double-edged sword to wield."
feral Artem pawing at her window
What could possibly be pawing a window - of the upper cathedral - beyond reach of the commoners?
She opens the curtain of her reading room with a swift movement for the guest.
"The door is over there."
@irregulator replied:
The hot, squirming flesh was clasped betwixt his thumb and forefinger. He pulled it delicately, so that it stuck right out. Alberich looked rather silly like that. It really did something for him when accompanied by that big, wizened hat.
"And why would I be concerned about something like that?"
Artem's tone was soft, amused by the oddball's antics. He seemed unable to avoid him since their first conversation as strangers by the creek, not that he'd been trying to — he'd highlighted a set of particularly dull days with a dash of colour. The presumably sightless man just kept on showing up, and the Kastellan kept on laughing to himself.
"You think bites scare me?" Again, his voice came hushed. He teased without malice, only curiosity. Of course, he held Alberich's tongue because it was no more ridiculous than anything the sorcerer had done or said in his presence already. "I'd wager your spells are much more fierce."
Alberich jumps slightly when his tongue is clasped, though he chuckles awkwardly as it is pulled further out of his mouth. That’s his namesake you’re holding, Artem! The thought amuses the sorcerer greatly. He extends the moist muscle as far as it will go, breath hot on Artem’s fingers as he speaks.
But Alberich’s response is not one of words — no, not at first. Instead, he takes a quick step forward, pulling his tongue back into his mouth along with the digits that would pinch it. He sucks lewdly on on Artem’s fingers for a second before opening his mouth again with a wet pop.
He has things to say, of course. He always does. But until he has his tongue back, he chooses instead to just keep smiling that hunting knife smile, lacing his fingers behind his back and leaning slightly forward.
@irregulator said: “ oh, it’s just a little bit of blood. don’t worry. ”
(he is drenched)
from blood related prompts [accepting!]
Alberich’s grin widens, almost inhuman in the way it stretches his thin lips. Ah, this one seems amusing. But, then again, in their own way, don’t they all?
His staff still in his hand, the sorcerer raises his arm with a finger lifted like one about to give a lecture. “Ah, and a hurricane has just a little bit of water, the ocean might like to say. But what would the housecat think of the downpour? Perspective, my friend — it’s all about perspective these days. And from mine, I see a man about ready to drown.”
He taps that same finger against the length of his staff then, long nails clacking against accursed wood. He hm-hms softly. “Who’s the lucky son of a bitch? I can smell that that isn’t all yours. I like a man who makes enemies, you know. I also don’t. Like I said: perspective. You’re a diamond, my friend — I can already tell. A thousand facets. A thousand ways to look at you.”
There was a question in there somewhere, but hell if he remembers what it was. Still, he waits expectantly for the other to offer an answer to the nothing he’d just asked, expression like, Wouldn’t you agree?
He doesn’t offer to help.
Gently pokes at his teeth.
Alberich’s grin creeps further across his face, contorting his pale features into an almost inhuman shape — far too wide, far too menacing, but still with an undeniable air of cockiness. He tilts his chin up to better meet the other’s eyes — well, as much as he can with his blindfold, and the empty sockets beneath — before licking the front of his teeth from left to right, tongue brushing over Artem’s fingertip.
“Caught your eye?” he asks, those same teeth flashing. “You’re not the first to make such a bold observation. Don’t worry, I won’t suck your blood~”
Somehow the grin grows even wider.
@irregulator
🩸10 - bite a finger violently, drawing blood
He didn't know what to expect with that man. His Hunters were certain he wasn't a Beast -- not yet, anyway. There were signs of early symptoms of the Scourge, but for the time being it could've been controlled.
The Vicar allowed them to bring him to the hospital in the Research Hall, inject some healing Blood in him, see the effects... and, eventually, he offered to talk to him. Perhaps he didn't approach him correctly, or understimated how bad the effects of the Scourge could've messed with the man's mind. The Hunters were ready to attack if necessary, yet Laurence made them stay at the entrance of the room, away from him, worried that he would scare the stranger.
He didn't expect for him to attack so quickly.
He gasps in shock, stepping back just to have his arm grabbed, his hand is pulled closer--
--and his pinky is pushed inside the stranger's mouth.
The Hunters rush in to separate them, slam the outsider against the wall, weapons pressed against his throat-- but it's too late. Wimpering slightly, Laurence holds onto his left hand, grit his teeth. Realizes his finger isn't there, and instead is spat on the floor by the stranger.
This... didn't go as well as he expected.
@irregulator
[ BITE ] — feral!Artem acting in self-defense to a muse of Gio's choice
"WOOOAH THERE!"
Well. Who would've thought. If you chase adnd corner someone who showed clear signs of something being wrong with the way they act, eventually they'll fight back! Incredible, I know. Zazel didn't expect him to jump at her tho, that's for sure. When it comes to weapons, she knows how to deal with them. How to move to avoid the attack, where it's more likely they're going to stap or shoot, stuff like that.
But a bite? One that forces her to take a step back and lift her arm to avoid having her jugular torn apart? That's a little too much.
Gritting her teeth, the ringleader's free hand squeezes the handle of her morningstar and...
Swings it. Not to hit anywhere vital, but at least to shove that thing away before it ruins her outfit.