#valour-bound

[darckcarnival]

how long did that take you to learn?

@valour-bound

It was not uncommon for the woman to visit Chris just about anywhere, so long as there was comfortable knowledge she would show up out of the blue. And not always be using the front door. After all, most of those close with the woman knew full well the half human had a habit of preferring travel through shadows, shifting between the physical world on a far different plane so to speak.

Such a power, a talent really, had taken her a great amount of time to learn, perfect, master. Long ago it had even back fired, trapping her within it's confines to be nothing more than a witness upon horror after horror, merely capable of only using typewriters to speak through or to move various items about in a desperate attempt to help those in the most danger. That was after all the start of it all, wasn't it? So to speak at least. Driven to do anything within her power to preserve and save lives, even with hands proverbially tied. Only years later was she capable to do such things at will.

So, to hear Chris ask her this question, the found family he was, got Darck to release an amused laugh of confusion. One brow perked over purple sunglasses as the gaze shifted his direction. It wasn't so much a sore spot anymore, but certainly an unexpected inquiry he had given.

"The shadow puppetry? Or me just using it in general?" Darck's voice carried a tone of fondness between the syllables. She didn't really talk about how she had learned or how long it took to do such a thing. However, it had certainly become just a common fact that she used this in her every day practically. "Well, at first I wasn't the best with it. Only surface level things. But, as you know I got stuck there for a while... In total I'd say it took me... 3 years or so to completely master? Unfair advantage of course, being stuck as long as I was. Be thankful you didn't see me getting myself tripped up half the time, that was embarrassing."

"A lot harder to learn than the regeneration, I'll tell you that. Course... Being stuck like that, let me help you in the long run... I'd say it was worth the suffering."

[aureatescars]

9 for Chris if that’s alright? 🥺🥺🥺

expression meme

[shireentheunburnt]

From Wights to Zombies

Shireen wasn’t entirely sure when and how things had changed. There hadn’t seemed to be any noticeable warning before stone had changed to wood and brick. It was still cold, still rather dark which the child was thankful for, but it was certainly not where she had been minutes earlier on bidding her mother good night. It had been one of those evenings where the girl had wished to be alone rather than curling up with her mother to ward off the chill... and the nightmares. Rather than attempting to submit to the prison of sleep that her mother sought, the princess had opted to wander instead. 

And then things had changed. 

The scarred child had stepped through the door into what should have been the echoing, foreboding corridor of Castle Black, and emerged into what appeared to be a house’s living room. Turning to look behind herself, the entrance to her mother’s quarters had vanished leaving only a wall in its place. Clutching her charred stag figurine to herself with both hands for comfort, she took a few more tentative steps forward, and called out in the muted hope that someone would answer her. 

“Hello? Hello, is someone there? Please... I... I need help. Is anyone there?” 

@valour-bound

[lcstkey]

Selena “Artemis” Wolfsong  by Sol [ @valour-bound ]

I commissioned Sol for a drawing of Sel in the augmented shire pathfinder’s maiming armor set. And my god, they slayed drawing that armor. I love the detail they put in the armor and she turned out gorgeous. <3 <3 <3 

Thank you Sol!! <3 <3 <3

[unprocione]

➤  * 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃  ( @valour-bound ) 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 🗡𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.

❝ I've seen grosser things come out of MRE rations. ❞ Leon remarks, a grin teasing at the edge of his lips. ❝ The ones Krauser used to get, they had.. smoked sausage, in this little plastic package. Those almost made me go vegetarian, swear to god. This fish in here, it isn't half as slimy as that abomination. People are right, you know, I really didn't care to know how the sausage gets made after that. ❞ Leon can almost still hear Krauser's lecture, can almost still smell the fried snake the other man had put on after he was done giving Leon hell.

❝ The fish is actually somewhat fresh, and salted, so... it's been in my attaché case a week, maybe. The snake's pretty fresh too, but not as fresh as the fish. It's pickled snake, though, so it should be fine. ❞ Leon takes the youngling snake gingerly by the tail, yellow-banded, scarcely matching the size of two of Leon's fingers. ❝ You know, a snake can still bite you after it dies? For up to an hour after death, it's a reflex they have, even if they're decapitated. ❞

Leon's recitation of the fact is reverent as he looks over the snake, still and dead as can be while held aloft in the air, but, distinctly despite his reverence, Leon speaks without a trace of admiration. ❝ It's.. weird, right? ❞

In a blink, the vertebrae crunch under Leon's canines as he bites down, the pale bellyscales and discolored eyes catching the light and given a semblance of life again before the rest, head included, vanishes behind his lips, reminiscent of the expensive fettuccine that was often Leon's choice of lunch. It only takes him a moment to chew and swallow, and Leon doesn't bother to rush, watching Chris make a selection with interest, and then amusement. Leon's tongue languidly slides over his teeth, eyebrows raising and then lowering, acknowledging Chris with a tilt of his head.

❝ Hah, fitting. Bokbok. Bokbokbokbok-- ❞

[ask-dbd-adawong]

“It is not our time to die… probably.”

The mercenary scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Well don’t you sound reassuring. I’ll offer you a little tip. Try that again, but don’t add the ‘probably’ at the end there. The ladies will lose their minds once they realize how confident you sound.” A snarky remark from Ada. She fell back silent, listening to the mechanical humming of the generator; tying the wires together, until she properly secured her wiretap.

With the wiretap in place, nearly on cue; the aura of the killer for this trial came closer into view. Quickly getting up, she began to walk away, not turning back to look at Chris. “Just so we’re clear, I know it’s not my time to die. For your sake, let’s just hope it’s not yours. Catch you later, Redfield~” With a wave, the spy was gone.

[thenervousleader]

@valour-bound sent:

[ retrieve ]  your muse requesting or ordering mine to retrieve them something .

Dwight falters, taking a half step back from the generator. He's not used to being given orders, he's usually the one coordinating the team, but there's no doubt in his mind that Chris is right. He speaks with such authority that Dwight feels like he's at his first job again, with no clue what it is that he's supposed to do, so he listens. He nods, and curses his hesitation. In these terrible games, every second counts, and his momentary hesitation might mean the difference between fixing this generator - opening the gates - escaping... or dying. He won't let his hesitation cost Chris. The chest is tucked away behind a fallen tree, and he would have missed it if Chris hadn't pointed it out. He's sheltered and has a good view for anyone approaching, for which he's grateful, but it seems to take an age to open. The lock finally falls away and he throws open the lid. "A toolbox," he says, hastily bringing it back to Chris. "You take it, you'll get more use out of it." He sets it on the ground next to Chris, and crouches next to the generator again, exhaling shakily. No matter how many times he's thrown into the trials, it terrifies him as much as the first. "It's okay," he says, though it's unclear if he's reassuring himself or Chris. "We can do this, hey? It'll be fine, just - just focus. Two more generators, then the gates, then we're out. Easy, right? I wish it was easy."

[bladedflowerarch2]

@valour-bound sent: “Considering the stories I’ve heard, I was expecting someone scarier.”

“Now hold on, jury might still be out on that last part.” She’s only half-joking with her response, steel blue eyes focused solely on the bottle of sage, salts, and god knows what other kinds of ingredients that she read would be needed for this mission’s monster of choice. The BSAA may have guns to take care of BOWs (so do the BPRD, but still) but sometimes guns don’t protect you from the ghouls and goons that the BPRD specialized in. She only looked up when she put a cap on the bottle and shook it to mix the ingredients up. “What stories did you hear, anyway?”