#misererenostri

[catinecarlate-blog]

I don't like pain, but I bring it to life I don't like scars but I am good with a knife I don't like tears when I'm starting to cry And then I realize I'm destroying my life I do this to myself I do this to myself Stop blaming someone else We do this to ourselves I can't make reality connect I push till I have nothing left But if we want to wake up, Why we still singin' these lullabys? I'll run in circles till I crash One day these steps will be my last But if we want to wake up, Why we still singin' these lullabys?

[catinecarlate-blog]

Be careful making wishes in the dark Can't be sure when they've hit their mark And besides in the mean time I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart I'm in the details with the devil So now the world can never get me on my level I just gotta get you off the cage I'm a young lover's rage Gonna need a spark to ignite

[catinecarlate-blog]

Broken Crown

[ @misererenostri ]

Cainhurst was cold. It wasn’t a situational observation, it was just fact. Valencia hadn’t been home in quite some time, and feeling this harsh wind nip at her pale skin, she realized just how much she’d missed it. The white snow glistened under the moonlight, bats prowling outside the castle grounds. Taking a moment to carefully pet one, she smiled. They were normally extremely hostile, but once you knew how to tickle them the right way, they allowed a little touch. But, she wasn’t her to make friends with woodland creatures.

Her heels clacked loudly through the castle, past the vast bookshelves and tables, fine decor drawing her eye every few steps. Such a beautiful castle. After what seemed like an age, Valencia reached her destination. She’d intended on visiting her Queen. It had been a while, and it was always a good idea to show respect when you had free time.

Approaching the throne room, she could tell something was off. Her steps became more hurried, trying to get there as quick as she could. Bad move, she found out. The sight that greeted her was... disgusting. Blood... so much blood. A substance that seemed like... jelly? But she could tell. She could tell it was remains. Remains of the Queen she was so loyal to. The room stank. The sheer amount of red liquid was almost too much for her to take in, sinking to her knees in front of the throne. Tears stung her eyes, hands grasping at the remains. They slipped through her fingers, Valencia trying to ignore the burning pain in her chest.

But then... then he caught her eye. Standing in the room, covered in blood and holding that blasted wheel. Hatred boiled inside her at the sight of him. Even under that damned golden cone, she knew who it was.

“Alfred... Alfred you... disgusting creature! Vile beAST!”

[catinecarlate-blog]

misererenostri said: [squints]

“Jealous I may have another admirer? Gosh, I love seeing you so wound up. You’re so easy to toy with.”

[catinecarlate-blog]

[ @misererenostri : ctd from here ]

“Would you get jealous? I imagine you would. Some other Executioner getting to put their hands on me and squeeze the life from my perfect body... Maybe they’ll be pleasing to the eye! Wouldn’t that be a novel development? Hm? How lucky I might be!”

Valencia gave a half smirk, pacing around him, her heels giving a “clack clack” on the cobbles with every step.

[rurounoyamamura-blog]

@misererenostri

The wanderer swore under his breath at the sharp tearing pain of the wolf beast’s claws ripping at his arm as he leaped back, rifle dropping from his injured hand. As the creature snapped and roared and wheeled after him Yamamura sliced the pad of his thumb on the sharp edge of his sword as he thrust it back into its sheathe. Though it was not a technique he used he could feel the blade greedily drinking his blood and imbuing itself with magic. As the beast lunged he stepped to one side and drew his sword in a hissing, quicksilver slash, first cutting through one of the lycanthrope’s reaching arms and then arcing up and around to slice down and bite through its thick neck.

The swordsman staggered even as the beast fell dead in three pieces, gritting his teeth at the burn of his wounds, but at least had the presence of mind to banish the spell still eating away at his vitality by sharply flicking his blade, his own blood splattering over the dirty cobblestones. Panting heavily, Yamamura sank to his knees and slowly dragged a rag from his belt to wipe his sword with before sheathing it once more, though he did not yet go after his fallen rifle or move to treat his arm with blood vial or bandage.

What had happened to him? How could he possibly be so rusty, so out of practice, as if it had been years since he had last wielded sword and gun? Yamamura had no answers for these or other unsettling questions so for another moment more he simply knelt and focused on calming his breathing.

[djvra]

@misererenostri​ / starter call. 

   PRIDE & PAST RIVALRIES BURNED IN HIS STOMACH like a million overturned candles, his skin thickening and creasing as wax cooling upon strained drippings.  he recognized that garb — that ornate shawl lifted by smoke in the wind that curved like the snake’s crooked spine — a thick & pale blue undoubtedly washed of endless blood ( purged of its sins, as if holy words were enough !! ).

“ be gone, hunter of the church !! ”

   his voice fell into a fugue of towering echoes from above, payne-gloved digits coiled around his gun’s crank in preparation for when the executioner reached his charge.  doubtless he was of how MERCILESS the saint’s hammer may be — how shattering the wheel could crush !!

“ the righteous have denounced our name & abandoned this district to the pyre.  your very presence here is scorn upon its grave. ”