#thevoidqueen

[whimsygardens-archives]

{x}

       Xiro rolled his lips inward, his frustration brimming on the surface. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned forward slightly, his hair falling into his eyes. “The bruises, Your Majesty? You’ve done a fine job of hiding them from everyone else, but my senses are keen. You’re always exhausted, pale...” And he could sense the Darkness practically oozing from her pores. “What is going on?”

       It wasn’t that he cared what became of her. Indeed, he would get along just fine no matter who sat on the throne... provided that they were human. If the Darkness was still present, then it meant that the Crawler could have survived, or worse, that there were more like it out there. Gods, if the Queen was infected... He could only imagine the ramifications of such an event. 

     “Look, I know it’s not my place, but if you’re in some sort of trouble...”

[whimsygardens-archives]

@thevoidqueen 

    Like everyone else in Albion, the Crawler’s attack had Xiro on edge. It had been a long while since anything of the like had ever threatened the land (Xiro was pretty sure it was the biggest threat faced since he had terrorized the kingdom as the Jack of Blades), and, while he was fairly certain that he was far more powerful... It was too close for comfort, and he had to wonder what it could mean. Creatures like that didn’t just pop up out of the ground. It tickled something at the darkest corners of his memory, as if it was somehow familiar.

     It was in times like these that he thanked his lucky stars that the Academy had been reopened to the public, and that he had taken up working there some months ago. This meant unlimited access to the many tones secreted away within its aging shelves. It was to them that he turned in his search for answers.

     It was too bad that Albion’s historians were absolute shite.

    Sighing heavily, he pushed away from what had to have been the hundredth book he’d combed through, rubbing at his eyes. This was going nowhere. At this rate, he’d have more luck just going to Aurora himself. Pulling his watch from his pocket, he checked the time. Gods above, was it 8 o’ clock already?! He had been here for the whole damn day! No wonder his head was pounding.

    Snaking a hand through his brown locks, he stood, stretched, and snatched up his coat. There was no use sitting around here any longer. It was clear that the answers he sought could only be found elsewhere. He shrugged on his coat and was out the door before long, trudging through the sleet as he made his soggy way home. 

    That was when he felt it: the ominous, pressing Darkness.

    He stopped, eyes darting every which way. He hadn’t imagined it; there was no way he could have. But the Crawler had been defeated. It was dead... Right?

    He saw no movement. Everyone had retired to their homes for the evening, except for the odd drunkard that was still drowning himself in spirits at the pub. By all appearances, things were peaceful. Why, then, did he feel such a heavy weight of impending doom? Dammit, of all the times to be without his sword--

     A loud laugh pierced the air and he nearly jumped out of his skin before realizing it was coming from the pub. Embarrassed, he started walking again. Maybe he was just imagining it. He was just too on edge lately, it seemed. He needed to calm down.

    In that moment, his shoulder collided with another. With a smooth step to the left, he prepared his apology, but his voice died when he saw just who it was he’d run into. The queen. Aw, hell.

    “U-uh---” he stammered, wetting his suddenly dry lips. “Forgive me, Your Majesty! I was distracted...”

     Wait. It was her. The Darkness, the fear---it was coming from her, rolling off in wave after wave. He furrowed his brow in confusion. What on earth...?

[whimsygardens-archives]

{x}

        Xiro did not immediately respond, grinding his teeth as he knelt in the gathering snow. Desperate fingers clutched at the gaping crimson maw that had opened his flesh like a chasm in the earth, his lifeblood pouring from his shoulder. Red met white as it spattered upon the ground, melting its blanket of cold. He watched it with detached interest for a moment or two. Her dog gave it an investigative sniff.

         His frustration was born more from his own carelessness than any amount of pain he was in. Had he not gotten cocky, the damn bandit would not have been able to throw the damned knife while Xiro was busy taunting the last of his comrades. Of course it had to have been made of iron. It was always iron, wasn’t it? But, here he was, the Jack of Blades at the mercy of a woman he barely knew, his pride in shambles upon the forest floor. 

         At least he had been able to slaughter the bandits before the pain and blood loss took hold. The burning in his shoulder had become nigh unbearable towards the end, and he had ripped the weapon from the joint before it could do more damage. He must have cried out, because she came running ‘ere long. She found him bitter, his arm hanging uselessly at his side as he tried and failed to heal himself.

          Dammit.

          “Fine,” he growled, making a point to avoid any eye contact. He knew he couldn’t fix this himself, and they were miles away from civilization. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed her help, and pushing her away would only make his situation all the more dire. 

[archoncxrrupted-archive]

@thevoidqueen liked for a starter!

             “I see you survived.”

             Barely. The Crawler had taken quite the blow in losing its own form. He was certain that taking the shape of the one that had killed it had not been the most comfortable experience for his henchman. But it stood before him now, looking quite a bit different, but no less alive. 

              “I think I owe you an apology. And an explanation.”

[whimsygardens-archives]

{x}

        He, too was wounded, breathless, and tired. The battle had been long and hard won; he had known that the Crawler was a creature of immense power, but he hadn’t realized just how closely matched they truly were. It was disconcerting just how much damage the monster was able to inflict, weak as it was. He had to wonder what fighting it at full power would have been like, and promptly decided he didn’t want to know the answer to that question.

        It took several moments for him to catch his breath, but once done, a hum buzzed against closed lips as he shook his head. “Mm, no, I don’t think so. I want answers, and you’re just the right person to give them to me.” 

[willbeshot]

℧ (via thevoidqueen)

                                   meme - not accepting.

victoria drawing reaver

                    Standing still for the most part, Reaver had positioned himself in a dramatically gallant pose. This wasn’t exactly out of the norm for him, as he frequently had paintings, sculptures, and sketches of him made, but what was different about it all this time around was the fact that Victoria was the one drawing him instead of a professional artist. However, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to possess the same sort of attitude and hold her to the same standards as if she actually were one.

“I’m hopeful that Sparrow informed you of what became of the other artists who were unable to nail down my likeness–”

@thevoidqueen