#izar-tarazed

[gulosite]

❝  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑  ,  𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋  𝐌𝐄  :  do  they  tell  the  tales  of  the  past  or  of  the  future  ?  the  past  i  know  all  too  well  but  to  know  if  i  succeed  with  my  goal  …  to  EAT  THE  REMAINS  OF  THE  ETERNAL  QUEEN  , DEVOID  HER  OF  SINS  .  ❞  the  godskin  speaks  but  he  is  unlike  any  other  godskin  one  may  see  within  the  realms  …  he  was  made  for  a  purpose  &  that  was  stripped  of  him  many  moons  ago  .  he  circles  the  erdtree  like  birds  of  prey  circle  their  targets   &  tonight  he  ended  up  near  the  sorrowful  wet  lands  of  raya  lucaria  finding  a  tarnished  &  their  friend  of  little  remains  . 

⸻ @izar-tarazed ♡

[fishermcn]

Lore Drop!!

@izar-tarazed // tales from the isle now downed and drowned // accepting.

// er sam typically uses his spirit calling bell to summon depraved perfumer carmaan, what with the two of them both sharing the same trade and thus using their deadly perfumes in conjuction. that said, carmaan isn't the strongest spirit ash sam has on his person - that would be rollo, the first omenkiller.

a "gift" from his "patron", sam refrains from calling rollo for a number of different reasons. the least of which being that the physical tax on his person to do so can be significant compared to carmaan, leaving him winded. more than that though, the first omenkiller unnerves him in a way that's hard to describe; as if there is something dead about rollo that has nothing to do with being a spirit.

when he does summon rollo, it's a sign that a situation has spiraled out of his control that'll require raw power to sort out. rollo provides it in spades, his omen-horn cleavers tearing apart man and monster apart with horrific ease before returning to rest as if he'd been pulling weeds from a garden.

[a-tarnished-soul]

*gently sets down Ensha in the ask box for a vibe check*

Gideon has to keep telling Soul to stop bothering him, but I think they would vibe pretty well.

Funnily enough, Ensha never invaded Soul or Robin in the coop playthrough! Maybe Ensha switches loyalties. Maybe Soul and him get to spar on rare occasions.

Either way, he's a pretty cool character.

[Send Soul a character to do a vibe check]

[fishermcn]

✏ !

@izar-tarazed // muses and portrayals yet considered.

// elden ring spoilers beneath the cut, but

i'd love to write godfrey some day. i've been more or less fixated with him ever since i fought him near the end of my firest elden ring run, and he's easily one of my absolute favorite characters from the game. i'd love an opportunity to not only flesh out who he was as hoarah loux before meeting marika and becoming elden lord, but also his relationship with serosh and even that of the omen twins.

i think he's amazing, and i know i'd thoroughly enjoy writing his exploits and his battles.

[fishermcn]

👤+ Lady Tanith (and maybe Patches?)

@izar-tarazed // a friend fondly met at the long-traveled crossroads, or a foe bitterly dashed against now bloodied stones? // accepting.

"Ah, fuck."

He'd been having a surprisingly good time of things right up until now, believe it or not. Would've been hard to imagine himself willingly keeping company with a tarnished (one that isn't some brand of lunatic at that), much less actually getting on with one of their lot enough to travel a good ways across the Lands Between at her side. Yet here they are, cooling their heels for the evening on a golden stretch of hillside in the heart of the Altus Plateau, and Sam can't quite find it in himself to write off the notion of an Elden Lord and an end to all this shit.

Not quite so easy to laugh off when Izar's face is the first one his mind conjures up these days, at least.

Maybe that's what makes him so reluctant to speak at first, stormy gaze flickering from the mostly scrapped exploding pot he'd been stuffing to the brim with dried flaming butterflies before making its way back to her face. Sam lets a resigned sigh rattle out from between his crooked teeth, leaning against the wall of the shack they've taken up in for the evening with a shrug of his slight shoulders. "If ya know that name, if ya asking me 'bout her, reckon ya know I'm in with their lot."

Damn his cough, moreso now than ever before given the current conversation. His shoulders shake something fierce as he hacks and wheezes into a dirtied sleeve of his garb, and when he's through he lets his head settle against the rotting wood with a dull thunk. "Not a recusant, mind. Just supplying them, ya might say. No stake on hunting tarnished. Certainly not you." Sam doesn't let that almost fond acknowledgement linger, fiddling with one of the perfume bottles he's plucked from his belt rather than meet Izar's gaze. "Tanith, though. Mhm. Dangerous. Not one t'take up a sword herself, no, but she runs the manor in Rykard's stead. Courteous but cold, cutthroat."

Another cough cutting him off, two then three, before Sam shakes his head. Something intense lingers in the tired set of his eyes, something wary and alert. "Means what she says. About uprooting it all, 'bout stringing up anyone trying t'do what you're doing. No pretending, not her. If ya meet her... be careful. Polite, even."

The tension about his person is plain, as though someone has drawn back a bowstring to its apex without bothering to properly aim an arrow for the effort. Thankfully it's loosened without snapping by the next name on Izar's mind, and the sudden switch from almost anxiousness to blatant irritability is almost comical as Sam snarls. "That bald fuck? Godsdamned charlatan would upcharge ya a chamberpot just for a laugh. Card cheat too. Punch that smug grin o'his in f'me should ya see him 'fore I do."

[fishermcn]

5!

@izar-tarazed // ruffling feathers to a beat // accepting.

When it's tough, when you get stuck,

You're at the wall / Of the writer's block.

You need a spark, a light in the dark,

To get you out of your head, and into your heart~

[fishermcn]

@izar-tarazed pondered: truth to be told, some of the reviews were left by a certain local astrologer who's more than happy to put stars everywhere

(izar vc: "what do you mean, 5 stars. it's not just 5 stars. look how I spaced them. that's the springhare constellation. I actually made a very nuanced statement here")

"Ain't that Mergo's Cradle?" Sam drawls with a furrowed brow, squinting as his eyes follow the shape Izar traces across the paper with her finger. He scratches at his jaw with a thoughtful hum, still looking a bit confused. "Suppose it passes for a hare... sorta."

"Here," and now the hunter's patting himself down for a sketching pencil tucked away from one of his own charts. With a few quick, thorough scratches of the pencil there's an outline of what he's seeing... which looks no more like a cradle than the previous one a hare. "Huh. Thought I were onto somethin' there."

[fishermcn]

‟… so what’s in the pantry?” Izar asks with a curious glance.

Ensha nudges her and signs as if to correct her. It earns him a nudge in return.

‟Stop that. It’s not who’s in the pantry. … Right?”

@izar-tarazed // picking the bones clean before carrion on // not accepting.

Maybe it has something to do with the rapport built between cadaver and scholar and rogue, seemingly strange yet strong after those chance encounters became less so. Maybe it's the sheer absurdity of the implied cannibalism coming from Ensha of all people. Maybe it has to do with for once not being regarded warily as a heretic perfumer and a dabbler in profane arts.

Regardless of them all (or because of them), Sam can hardly help the bark of laughter that slips free amidst their little back and forth. It's still roughened by the rasp in his throat like anything else he says or coughs up, but the warmth of it stands out starkly. Enough even to surprise himself, if the quick clearing of his throat and the shake of his head is proof of anything. "Fools, the both of ya." Even attempting to smother that same amusement is a failed effort, but he has a go at it nonetheless if for appearance's sake alone. "Only keep corpses in th'basement."

With a roll of his eyes, Sam jerks his head towards a few fish piled up on the table. Even skinned and deboned, there seems to be something gilded to them... much to his chagrin. "Goldgills. Not bad fishin' off th'peninsula. Lotta work t'clean, take time t'prep up, but worth it."

"No fuckin' clue why everything's gotta be godsdamn golden..."