#nazorneku

[ultimateutopia]

[emwrcte]

" revenge is the best medicine ! " marzipan @ oblivion

Unprompted (I think lmao) | Always accepting.

“ Vengeance's sweet fruit, by justice bred, For those deserving, balm for heart and head! ” 

The words carry a melody and and cadence, demure and allure woven together like two threads of fate. The player's voice makes the craftworld's fire-maned head spin and breath snare in her throat, silver worn visage of the thirsting god observing from above as the Solitaire stood alone amid a parting of two structures. Touch caressing the siding of the residence with a reverence, an envy of something ceaseless in its hunger for more. 

“ Again! Once More! Requite each slight with vengeance sore! Again, yet still, A weary dance, that hath no will to end. ” 

They are a blur, something which appeared once here then there. One of the mutant traitors which raised to strike Marazhai was greeted with a Harlequin's Kiss in response to the very idea of the blow, horror the last expression they wore as their bones turned to ash and fluid. Their lifeless body held by the Solitaire in a dip, like a lover in the midst of a ballroom. Holding them just so, tenderly, ensuring their weight was suspended in such a way as they clung to life for fractions of a second longer. The Solitaire appeared several dozen meters behind the Dracon, the kiss piercing skin through the leg and causing a scream to wail. A scream they used as chorus, a backup vocal to their next verse. 

The tone was exhilarated, nearly mad, and yet the mask of Sai'lanthresh did not so much as smile. Ever unsatisfied. Eyes of impossible black which concealed the actor beneath turning to Marazhai in the same moment, both bodies landing on the ground at the same instant. One emitting a dying breath, the other a wail of pain in horrific synchrony. 

“ A life of joyous mirth, a state of pure elation, May mine own just requital know no cessation! ”

Arebennian, the word which Lyriet cannot speak above a whisper, walks again towards their kin. A single, flickering image which moved with a specter's grace. It snaked through the battlefield and wove death as if it came as a byproduct of every breath, movements weaving like a dancer flowing from partner to partner, each one meeting the same fate as they were delivered unto oblivion's gate. When they stood before the two Aeldari, it was in pose. Laughter rolling out like the bellowing of a mad god.

Mocking. Yet instructing. 

“ Let the knaves glean naught from mischance! Huzzah, they shall falter in this noble dance! Let there be no cessation of excess! Let there be naught but this! Attend, that they might find themselves in joyous ecstasy! And be welcomed into my bosom, warm and full of charity! ”

And the face of doom laughed. They laughed a mocking, harsh, callous laugh. One of death and grand excess, drinking the dracon's own duress. 

[hamletsboy-a]

he   stretches   his   arms   out   wide,   eyes   brightening   in   earnest   (   lithe   physique   carefully   accentuated   by   the   pins   &   needles   currently   holding   the   raiment   together.   )   somehow   the   new   suit   is   both   oversized   &   fitted   to   perfection   —   for   what   it's   worth,   noctis   is   pleased   with   himself,   dress   shoe   heels   clanking   together   elegantly   as   he   preens.   thick   fabric   still   molded   to   his   body   like   a   glove,   thin   waist   properly   cinched,   lean   legs   elongated.   '   hey,   ignis   —   what   do   you   think ?   '   pale   intonation   tinged   with   laughter,   more   amused   at   the   prospect   of   appearing   regal   than   the   approaching   date.   '   do   i   look   like   a   king ?   '

ㅤㅤㅤ┃┃┃ starter for @nazorneku, for ignis

[underbloods]

@nazorneku liked for a missive sent to thanatos!

"WERE YOU JUST... casually snooping, or ... ? "

[valiantseeker]

❛ you'd look better down on your knees. ❜ @ kefka :')

An Assortment of Dialogue Prompts | Accepting | @nazorneku

Locke frowns. Oh he hates this clown so much. Someday he will see the end of him. He even wishes he could be the one doing the final shot at Kefka, but he also knows a lot of his friends wish for the same. He needs to be stopped. Locke has never trusted him, but now Kefka even considered himself as some kind of god. He managed to rearrange the surface of the world forever and killed so many innocent people.

"I'll never be on my knees." He just can't. Locke is a fighter, and he will either survive or die trying to make this world a better place. But for now he has to find that treasure or to reunite with his friends. If they are alive. He shakes his head. They have to be. "I'm surprised to see you outside of your tower. Feeling invicible, mmh ?" Locke won't fight him today, of course. It would be suicide.

[soulgathered-moved]

"You have pretty eyes" moros @ mel

"lord moros !" the princess smiles up at him. for a moment she falls quiet, letting the words just hang between them before she leans forward, a bit of mischief in those odd eyes he just complimented.

"I do have to ask : did you mean to say that out loud?"

tell my muses they have pretty eyes ( accepting ) // @nazorneku .

[fractempyreal]

Now Griffon is jealous... Why he wasn't cherished and cared for like that overgrown lizard? Unjust! This fucking family.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❛ Perhaps if you knew when to keep your comments to YOURSELF , you wouldn't be in such a predicament . ❜ It's why Shadow is also their favorite of the three familiars . Nope . They're not afraid to admit it .

@nazorneku in reference to THIS post.

[ultimateutopia-old]

✏️ terra @ kefka