#of-the-detested

[vcsavi]

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pat the bean for good luck.

[boredofcinder]

@of-the-detested

Lothric opens his eyes in his dark room and is mildly alarmed, not for the first time, to note how dark it is.  Even at night, he’s used to moonlight filtering through his window and leaving vague impressions of furniture.  He misses the light.  He expects he’ll have the chance to miss it properly someday.  In the space of this week, he can mostly only manage to be profoundly relieved and grateful that the ending of an age could be survivable.  Relieved that he not only has a future, but always had one.  That it mattered in that way, to try and live.  

He takes a moment to finish waking up, then calls an illuminating ball of light to his hand.  He isn’t sure if he’ll be getting out of bed or going back to sleep (he’s leaning towards going back to sleep) but the raw darkness is too unpleasant to lie in.  He wonders if it’s still ‘day’ in the sense that the others haven’t gone to bed yet.  He and Lorian have yet to design a system for distinguishing night and day, and it’s been weighing on them.  He lies there quietly and listens for sounds of activity.  It hits him that his mind is particularly quiet; Lorian must be asleep.

Sadness and worry find him in the stillness, as if alerted by the tiny beacon of his location.  What if his mother is upset that he excused himself to take a nap?  What if she doesn’t understand?  Vera is from how things used to be.  And in the framework of how things used to be, the priestesses would tell him what he meant by his actions and punish him accordingly as they saw fit.  Vera wasn’t quick to participate in their self-righteous framework, but she never said a word against it.  When he mustered up the courage to share particularly frightening experiences, she’d offer comfort enough, but never solutions.  More often than not, the frightening thing would keep happening, only to be joined later by something worse.  Warmth and tension well behind his face.  He doesn’t know what to do.  And he can’t keep removing himself from the situation.  Any relief he feels now is only temporary.  His world got bigger by two people, and they’re here to stay.  He’ll have to figure out how to live with them sooner or later.  

No...it was three people.  They had a knight with them.  Desperate for a line of thought that won’t try to eat him, he wonders if anybody set their little guest up with a room.  She must be having an awkward time of things, surrounded by people several times her height sussing out all of these complicated histories full of hidden pain.  Lothric didn’t last long before checking out: Vera immediately wanted to see Gertrude’s body and got visibly upset when they showed her.  That reminded Lothric that Gertrude was easily her favorite child, and just like that he had no more energy.  In a definitive example of apples falling close to trees, he saw through Lorian’s perspective that Vera checked out soon after he did.  Ocelotte is a teenager with no memory of ever living here.  Lothric knows Lorian wasn’t helping the knight because he could read Lorian’s thoughts as he was falling asleep, and they were solely focused on funeral arrangements.  Vera is scared of Lorian because of who he was.  Lorian can’t fault her, feels ashamed, and wants to make a better impression.  It preoccupies him a lot.  He thinks of the knight as ‘the one who came with Vera’; not someone he particularly needs to keep track of.

Lothric pushes himself to a sitting position, pulls on his hood, and yawns.  He removes the heavy gold bangles to sleep, and he’s too tired to even consider reattaching them.  But he thinks he has to get out of bed and take a cursory tour of the common areas to make sure the knight isn’t huddled there waiting to be offered a place to sleep.  There’s even a chance that happened to Ocelotte, come to think of it.  Yes, he has to get out of bed.  Any second now.  

The prince who finds Selen by one of the bonfires used by the castle undead is not only missing a gold headdress, he’s also snugly bundled in a blanket.  Really, if people knew the benefits of teleportation as a primary movement style, they would clamor for it and never walk again.  

“Y-you, I!  I didn’t mean to startle you,” Lothric says quickly, sitting up straighter and almost managing to look regal.  “I beg that you will forgive me, but I cannot remember your name... if it pleases you to share it once more, I will certainly not forget it.”  All the while, he’s scanning the knight’s face to try and read her mood.  Was she led to this bonfire courteously by Lorian, Vera, or Ocelotte, or did she wander off and find it?  Perhaps she followed a castle undead.  Did Lorian ever tell the castle undead not to bother her?  Goodness... they’ve been abysmal hosts. 

[sweet-temperedsludge]

💥 Try to calm my muse during an overwhelming emotional moment (of-the-detested)

Silent gesture starters.

Sword all but forgotten in the snow-covered cobbles, the rat servant stood there, inhaling the icy air and not feeling its sting in their lungs whatsoever. Before them, the scorched figure of a knight of Irithyll writhed and groaned, cooking in their armor. Steam billowed forth from the half-alive remains, and the stench of burning hair and seared flesh wafting up in clouds of dense smoke. 

A gnarled hand twitched, reaching toward its fallen weapon, to which Mire took grave offense-- with a sharp grunt, they summoned another pillar of flame from the earth and burnt all the flesh out of the armor, blackening the area for several feet under their boots. This was the price for assaulting their master-- with fire, no less! Seeing the very thing they had used to bring peace and protection to all of ratkind turned against their King sickened them so deeply that they could hardly see straight. 

Paying no mind to the carnage, the Rat King bent double and licked his flame-bitten hide, the flesh underneath the burnt fur tender and pink. He watched the knight Ser Selen try to drop a hand delicately on his servant’s shoulder. They whirled on her, pyromancy licking up their arm to the elbow, but stopped, and stared for a moment. In silence, their shoulders slackened, and their attention turned back to the cadaver, as if prepared to set it ablaze once more, should it dare to move.  

[wanderer-among-undead]

❣ ☠ ☢

Salty Munday

How salty are you feeling right now?

Salty enough to reblog a salty munday meme, lol. 

 What does someone have to do for an instant unfollow from you?

Honestly, I don’t know what would be an instant unfollowing from me. Usually, I don’t follow in the first place, if it’s that bad. It is a case by case scenario, for me, so I cannot say there is something consistent. It’s based off gut feelings most times. 

What fads/trends are you so over? 

Very often, I see people answer asks that are rude to anons IC, killing anons, or are just not even attempting to answer the questions. I understand not wanting to answer certain questions, or sometimes the violence being comedy. But when you make your muse that closed off, I wonder just why a person reblogs memes for asks. 

[cursedandcarried-blog]

of-the-detested replied to your post: lorian’s superpower is making friends with girls

A talented lad

he’s really good at

making friends with girls

worrying that everybody hates him

sword stuff

[vcsavi]

of-the-detested replied to your post: karna is open to love, but u can’t just send him a...

Just send him a dick pic through ground mail. One that’s been taken from the internet and printed out, folded crudely and sorta haphazardly shoved into the envelope.

snail mail him a dick pic. fucking pony express a penis portrait.

[underthekillingmxxn-a-blog]

of-the-detested replied to your post: One of these days someone is going to smack...

Helena could if provoked enough. OR give him a firm talking to. DEPENDS ON TEH MOOD

Depending on what kind of tone she takes when scolding, he might see that as the worse option

[crimsonlocks]

of-the-detested hat auf deinen Eintrag geantwortet “anise (if you're still accepting these.)”

I deeply appreciate the image of Laurence chasing a cat.

Listen, I have a lot of thoughts about Laurence and cats, so take another one. Ludwig asks Laurence to greet the newest church hunters. So Laurence comes to them, while having a cat on his shoulders and holding one in his arms. He goes like this to the church hunters, says his usual stuff and while this happens like 10 pairs of eyes are just focusing on him and are like “Cats.” Some of them have a hard time to supress a laugh. And Ludwig is just like “Laurence, did you have to bring the cats for this?!”