#thedemonoflight

[mxchier]

♘. the-demon-of-light 

     “Alice. Alice Kingsley, sir."

[featheredmidnight]

She knew those woods; knew the geometry of tangled branches, the way they allowed no light under their cover, and the roots, digging idly in the ground like silent traps for the careless wanderer. And she knew that darkness as well — that feeling of things crawling on her skin, the subtle tension floating in the air, consequence of spells and curses that ground was drenched in. Odile knew it all, yet it did not make her steps any slower, or her back any straighter as she hid beneath her cloak. Her feet were used to rush back to the sorcerer, anyway; come rain or snow, he would receive what he wanted, and small delays usually caused the greatest wrath.                               —— but she couldn’t move on if she was                               lost, and now the trees closed around her,                               and the crawling on her skin was getting                               worse, as if the shadows were tickling her                               skin, and there was someone, something,                               lurking ——

“Who’s there?”, she had learned long ago how to not sound frightened when her heart was beating frantically in her throat, so she stood straight, the torch in her hand, and scanned the darkness, wondering what sort of twisted game Rothbart was playing now.

[skeletonwithabowtie]

[ ✍ ]

SEND ME A ✍ AND I’LL INTRODUCE YOU TO A MUSE THAT I’D LIKE TO RP AS.

"This is scientifically fascinating! I do hope you don’t mind me, this is truly something I don’t see everyday - and I didn’t think I’d be able to say that again!" The tanned man in a labcoat was writing frantically in a medium-sized notebook, muttering to himself about ‘conducting further research’ and ‘how can a skeletal being stand on their own like that?’. "Oh, sorry, let me start over! My name is Carlos, and I am a scientist currently based in Night Vale… Though I have not been able to return there in some time…"

[cammquin]

[ •3• ]

Send me a •3• and I will put my playlist on shuffle, write down the first line of five songs and give it to your muse as a poem from mine

                                           You’ve been alone                             I took my baby on a Saturday bang                                                  Hey you                             Something has changed within me                                            Hello, hello, baby

[ubiquitous-smiling]

the-demon-of-light replied to your photo:{Got new eye contacts.}

[ gosh always dreamed of such lenses; they’re wonderful; do they glow in the dark? ]

{Contact lenses are quite enjoyable- and thank you! They do not, as much as I wish. However, I do have a nice pair of pink, as well as purple ones that glow under UV light. Too bad I've never had a chance to see it.}

[snxwbird]

❝ Yᴏᴜ ᴍᴜsᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅs ɪɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏƒ yᴏᴜʀs... ❞

Sentence Meme: B△STILLE EDITION

      The notes have been drained from his quill, composing the magnificent piano score. A sad medley that rose from the soundboard, filling the air with that sweet, yet gloomy melody . The lid was open and her eyes followed absently the way the strings moved, lead by the nimble fingers of the host. Clear tones that reverberated in the arches, somehow giving the dark and cold room wamth. Her golden hues kept focused on his fingers, the way they moved along the keyboard, drawing that wonderful medley. The snow woman’s senses were focused on the music, but her mind was wondering. When did Jack learnt how to play the piano? How many things did that being knew? How many years had he lived? Learning whilst the life of the rest simply faded. Was he inmortal? A timeless man? Were the other inhabitants of his realm given the same gift at him?But was it a gift, or a curse? Was to dwell in the utter loneliness a gift? Would all the books compensate the complete silence? Was that the reason why he loved to play those medleys? She knew that she was being unfair, she should not wonder about those things, but she was far too polite as to ask, so in the end, the only thing she could do was to wonder.Bound to the darkness, spending the long years of his life in that place. She could understand, to an extent, why he was alone. Maybe it simply was too painful to have friends and to love, because in the end he would end up tasting over and over again the bitterness of mortality. She assumed that it had to be too painful, a torture that didn’t have an end was enough to drive anyone mad.Unconciously, whilst she rested her pale hands on the piano, she started to hum softly, it was in the beginning an almost unnoticeable murmur, but it slowly became a song that fused with the ongoing medley. She had a clear soprano voice, something that in the last years only the mountains, when she became a part of the snow storms she created, had witnessed. The medley spoke, in the almost forgotten language of the North Blue, about the decay of time, and the little things that despite it continued undimmed. Once she noticed that she was, indeed, singing, she thought about stopping, but since Jack didn’t seem upset, she decided to continue, adding  lyrics of hope for Jack’s sad piano score.The nimble fingers of Jack danced along the keyboard, adding a nice ending to the song. Monet felt like if she had to apologize, and she was about to do so when he spoke, leaving her speechless.She didn’t reply, but a sincere smile appeared in her lips. She was pleased to know that he wasn’t angry or annoyed. Nodding at his words and closing her eyes she waited for him to start another song.

           Snowflakes started to fall slowly from the ceiling, as Jack started to play a new song.  Outside his abode, for the inhabitants of Jack’s realm’s enjoyment, it started to snow.

[frigorifiic-blog]

[ Tʜʀᴏᴀᴛ, Cʜᴇsᴛ, Aɴᴋʟᴇs; ]

Throat: What is your muse’s greatest fear?

Jack’s greatest fear[s] would be of being forgotten or ignored [ Athazagoraphobia ] and of being alone [ Monophobia ]

Chest: What item or person does your muse treasure most?

His staff. It’s been with him for as long as he can remember, from before he became Jack Frost to long after. 

He never likes being without it.

Ankles: Tell me a weakness your muse has.

One of his weaknesses would probably his hastiness to jump into certain situation. Sometimes it can be a good thing but more often than not it usually isn’t.

[msbedazzled]

[ ♫ ]

Happy by Pharrell Williams