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[tyraunt]

ᘛ But maybe there is no one to answer your prayer.

[tyrannicalcrown]

- “Ah, I know you will,”

A thin smile appeared on his previously expressionless face. Miran knew nothing about him… would his behavior change when ignorance left his mind? That he indeed made a deal with the devil, that he sold his pointless,meaningless life away to serve a greater cause that he did not even made a part of? 

A quick pause.

- “— After all, I am not someone who would leave someone worthy without any information. There is much I need to say, and I will allow you to make any questions once I am done.”

…. Where’d he begin? 

- “I am a king from a faraway land. You can say it does not exist in this world… which would make me not human. No… in fact, I am something greater than that. 

You sold your soul to a demon, Miran Froaude. The king of all demons, someone who rules over anything and everything. I am to believe that we are not supposed to go back… for now. And with that, comes something… strange, and at the same time amusing. 

The reason why we are here. 

I have things to do, and yet… I am unable to return. I could destroy everything, and yet I cannot do anything. I am sure you have experienced something that is out of the ordinary, too.

Something you cannot do… something you cannot remember.

Am I wrong?”

[thekingshound]

Sold his soul to a demon. It occurred to him dimly that these were words that would bother any normal person. Miran, however, didn't particularly care. He was aware that his 'soul,' so to speak, was already tarnished beyond saving. Just to have someone accept it at all was more than he deserved. He also knew that there were costs to everything, and if his soul was the cost of a place for himself, it was one he was willing to pay.

"You're not wrong," he answered simply, at length. "It's true. There are gaps in my memory I can't fathom. I thought perhaps it was only I, but it seems we both do not belong here." Miran felt somehow better knowing that he was not the only feeling adrift recently. This man--no, this demon--perhaps they could anchor each other. That was what he hoped. Of course, Miran always hedged his hopes with doubts, in the interest of practicality. If worst came to worst, he was prepared for that too. He had already given everything he possibly could--anything else had been lost long ago.

A demon and a monster long since consumed by darkness. They didn't sound so different to Miran. The thought bothered him, and he pushed it to the back of his mind--there were more important things to attend to right now. "There is almost certainly a connection between these inexplicable losses," he said carefully. "It's possible that the answers we seek are the same. How convenient to have a unified objective from the start."

[tyraunt]

ᘛ But maybe there is no one to answer your prayer.

[tyraunt]

That was more like it. But such actions gave him no pleasure, no feeling of satisfaction at all. It was almost as if he had forgotten how to… or if whatever he truly enjoyed had been locked away. It was disgustingly empty, to live like this. 

It never changed. No, more like… he was never allowed to enjoy anything at all. The empty shell of a man who was bound to fulfill a role more than live his own life, this puppet who had no right to try and act as a human… someone who can think they are in control. 

Someone who would bow down to their true master, just like how Miran was doing right now.

- “I am satisfied. You are allowed to stand once again.”

- “You’d swear eternal loyalty to a man you do not know. You chained yourself to me, and you allowed me to command your fate from now on. The least I could to to commend you for your actions is to let you know more about me…. and have you do the same. 

I will be using you from now on. And I expect a fine job to be done; even from a human like you.”

However, he waited on Miran’s response. He would not waste time if this man did not desire to hear his story. Somehow, he doubted he would turn this down.

[thekingshound]

Miran stood, nodded. Composing himself, he thought briefly before speaking, about where he could possibly begin, not only in asking this enigmatic man about himself, but in describing himself. With few memories to go on... he would have to make do with that, he supposed.

"I thank you for your generous offer of information," he said with utmost politeness. "I will see to it that it will be used only to further your wishes, and for nothing more than that." He carefully avoided the subject of his own unreliable memory, thinking to consider what he would say further before speaking on it.

[thekingshound]

thanksgiving disguised as a feast [event open]

[beaumiers]

Francine didn’t know what to do with all the festivity around them. They got the feeling they were unaccustomed to such shows of loose excitement. The people and the joyousness made them nervous, and they did their best to avoid the bulk of the throng. Coming about the edges of the congregation they saw where Miran sat. He looked calm enough in comparison the the bustle of the horde behind Francine, and Francine decided they could use a break after pushing through so many people.

Upon getting closer to the man, Francine faltered a bit. The man seemed far more naturally regal than Francine had ever managed, and he carried a cold atmosphere that made Francine hesitant. Still, Miran’s distant attitude seemed much more manageable and familiar to Francine at the moment then the merrymaking behind them, and so they decided to take their chance with the dark haired man. 

"Pardon me, but is that seat taken?" Francine smiled politically, gesturing at the seat next to the man, "And if it isn’t, would it bother you to have some company? I’m not quite used to the crowd, you see."

[thekingshound]

Miran turned silently and gave the newcomer a penetrating look, sizing... him? Her...? Sizing them up. Miran's first impression was 'weak.' The way they carried themselves like they were ashamed of even existing... such a lack of confidence was an unattractive trait in Miran's eyes. Things like shame and regret were not things that the man ever considered. It was a pointless exercise to reflect on the past more than absolutely necessary--a debilitating exercise to hold it like baggage. In Miran's opinion a person was at their best when taking action, not when panicking about shadows of doubts.

That said, the person before them did not seem to be a threat, so Miran merely shrugged. "You may sit wherever you like," he said finally, removing his icy gaze from the white-robed figure and returning to watching the crowd. After a few moments of awkward silence, it occurred to him that the person beside him could perhaps be a source of information.

He turned, pondering the best way to ask for information without drawing too much attention. "What is your name?" he began, deciding to begin with the basics, to move later to deeper subjects.

[thekingshound]

thanksgiving disguised as a feast [event open]

[crimsonfingereddddd-deactivated]

Claugh disliked—disliked was a mild way of putting it, really—aimless wandering. What was worse was the fog that lay, silent but ever present, over his mind. Bits and pieces shown through from time to time but ultimately he remembered, well… nothing. Faces, feelings, duties he once had (still had?) loomed over him but like shadows he could not pin them down and truly remember. And that was frustrating to no end.

The flood of people carousing in the streets made him wonder how many people really lived here—far more than he had thought, from the look of it. Still, the boisterous laughter and raised voices were aggravating the headache he had brought on by just trying to think about who he was, and so he made his way out of the throng and into a (relatively) peaceful location on the edge of it all.

And there he spotted the face that finally started to break through that haze in his brain.

"Of all the people that could possibly be here I find your stupid face, you—” But the words wouldn’t come to him—what was he going to say?—and in frustration he smacked his forehead with the heel of his palm.

Off to a great start.

[thekingshound]

The voice startled Miran--the sudden familiarity of the tone and cadence... he knew this voice. Miran looked the man up and down and it clicked in his head.

"...Claugh." The name felt right, sounded right. Miran had memories of this man, memories that brought a thin smile to his lips. While he wasn't entirely sure of the nature of his relationship with the man or how they had even met, he remembered this man was... not a friend, Miran didn't have friends, but. Something close. The only person in Miran's memory that did not make him ache in his chest. 

"A funny coincidence we should meet here," he said coyly. "You aren't following me, are you?" This was a man Miran liked to tease, a man that was easily wound up. Miran recalled that this man was worthy of at least a degree of respect, though he wasn't sure of the details, but that this in no way prevented Miran from giving him a hard time. Claugh, more than anyone in Miran's memory, seemed to like him, to an extent, sought him out beyond a reasonable excuse of 'duty.' Miran found that highly amusing, liked to pick and pry at the man's actions towards him until he was flustered.

[tyraunt]

ᘛ But maybe there is no one to answer your prayer.

[tyraunt]

- “…. Do you honestly think I am that flawed? If I wasn’t ready to make sacrifices, I’d be dead a long time ago. However…”

Idealistic. If he had a dream, something to work on… perhaps he could view Miran’s offer under a different light. He was someone who gave up on everything, who gave up on himself to obtain a higher ground. Kaleb had no use for small things such as a ‘personality’ or ‘emotions’. They were things that would hinder him, things that would get in his way eventually.

He would kill anyone who would dare to oppose him. Casualties, sacrifices… they did not matter. His hands were far too stained with blood for him to start caring now. But he could use him. 

He could use this man, he could use what he is seeking. These were nothing but pretty words, an excuse for Kaleb to use this man as he saw fit. He had no use for ‘swords’, he would bear it all upon himself. 

He’d die alone with his sins, he’d die alone on his throne. People to shoulder his burdens…

… people like that. They did not exist.

- “Kneel.”

He had no reason to raise his voice. It was an absolute command, an order to be followed without hesitating. His sword left its sheath, blade pointing to Miran’s neck as soon as his knees touched the ground.

- “From now on, your life belongs to me. You are perhaps too brave or too foolish; to see light where there is nothing.

I will be the one measuring your worth from now on, Miran Froaude. When you stop being convenient to me, I will erase you. I expect you to remember well who you sold your soul to. I expect you not to forget about today. 

Prove to me that you indeed have value. Prove to me that you are worthy something. I shall not turn down a ‘willing blade’, but this does not mean I will accept you so soon.

Prove to me that you are worthy of ‘my darkness’, Miran Froaude. Failure will not be tolerated. Not by me.”

[thekingshound]

Miran knelt frozen on the ground. Every nerve in his body seemed to be alight and time seemed to have slowed down. He could feel small stones in the ground digging into his knees with startling clarity; the icy metal of Kaleb's blade warming against his skin. He was sure his heart would give him away, make him say something idiotic and die here. In this moment the cold air between him and Kaleb felt like his entire world.

He swallowed, and he felt a sharp sting as the movement caused the blade poised at his throat to nick his skin. The sensation jolted him out of his reverie. It was at that moment he knew what to say--the words left his mouth almost against his will.

"It will be... as his majesty commands."

With that said, it felt as if the energy that ran through his veins had gone out with those words. Miran felt as if he would collapse and held himself up through sheer force of will. Perhaps he truly had sold his soul, and this was the sensation that came with its new absence. That, or it was some shaking semblance of relief. He would have reason now, and more than that... he would not be alone.

Just that thought erased all doubts in Miran's mind about his actions, if he had presumed wrong in saying 'his majesty' he did not care. It had felt right, and now he felt at peace. It was strange--he had never felt safer than he did now, exposed and vulnerable and on the precipice of death.

[tyraunt]

ᘛ But maybe there is no one to answer your prayer.

[tyraunt]

- “That is enough.”

A brief pause, and Kaleb simply stood there, digesting Miran’s words. The light within him…? What a joke. There was nothing like that. If he could, he would laugh.

His expression was completely frozen. 

- “Although your words were vague, it does not seem you are lying. Attracted by a light that doesn’t exist… I cannot say I understand your reasoning. 

However, I will accept that you are no enemy of mine.”

There was no reason for him to start any kind of fight right now. He kept his polite but cold tone, never once breaking eye contact. This meeting could prove to be rather interesting, and while gathering allies to leave this place wasn’t on his priority list… he would not discard that opportunity.

- “… So. Miran Froaude. What are your intentions from this point on? I assume you did not follow me only for this reason, risking being found and killed if your answer was not satisfactory to me… you do not seem that foolish and reckless.

Tell me. What is it that you desire?”

[thekingshound]

"What I desire?" Miran repeated. "If you cannot see the light within you that is nearly consumed by darkness... you may not understand." Miran held Kaleb's gaze with confidence. He could sense that showing weakness to a man like this would be his own death. The thought of that made his pulse quicken and he struggled internally to maintain his collected exterior.

"My own wish is simple," he continued. "All that I desire is to bear witness to your brightness. I sense you are a man who wields a great deal of power, and as a man who wields power you must know... power does not come cheap. There is always a price to be paid. That dream of a power to change things without sacrifice... it doesn't exist. I'm sure you know that."

The words flowed from his mind as if he'd said them before, perhaps in a dream. Miran himself was not entirely sure of his intentions--he had followed the man on a whim, followed because of a nagging feeling that beside this man he could find a place for himself, a reason to live in this strange world. He had followed the tantalizing promise of a purpose. He felt alive here in this moment, ready to pledge fealty to a man he'd never met on nothing but a hunch.

"What I can give you is the illusion of that power. I can take on your burden, make sacrifices for you, allow you to keep your hands clean and pursue other things while I become your sword. That may mean little here in this place... but an offer is an offer. I assume I am not the only one in this city that has found myself missing a few weapons. Truly, I do not doubt your strength... but from a tactical standpoint, can you afford to turn down a willing blade?"

[thekingshound]

Two questions: One: Do you RP with OCs? and two: If someone were to tag you in a random starter, would you reply?

Yes, as long as they're affiliated with sxh! I'd RP with anyone who replied to my posts in the RP, but I can make no guarantees for timeliness since I have a part-time job and inspiration comes and goes.

Yes, again as long as they're affiliated with sxh. If you're an indie, send me a message off-anon and we can chat about it privately.

[thekingshound]

thanksgiving disguised as a feast [event open]

"This atmosphere..." ...is distasteful. That was the thought in Miran's head. Everything was horribly bright and loud, and it made Miran's head throb painfully. His memories still felt jumbled and strange, and the raucous sound of merriment did nothing to help him untangle the mess.

Absently, he touched the ring on his finger. He still remembered how to use it, but even with the mist laid over his memories he knew that its power was a shade of what it had once been. In the privacy of his room he'd experimented with it and summoned two wolves, each no higher than his knees, that promptly curled up beside him and fell asleep. He was unsure how useful they would be in protecting him, but still the presence of the ring gave him comfort.

He ran his fingers around the pointed edges of the ring and the smooth stone in its center, focusing on the sensation instead of the suffocating press of bodies as he threaded his way through the crowd. He found a seat above the edge of the throng--close enough to observe and gather information, but far enough that it did not overwhelm him. He wondered what he could find out about how he got here, if he would see any faces in the crowd that would fill the holes in his memories, if he would find anyone of use to him. Those were the thoughts that occupied him as he scanned the crowd, watching--waiting.

[tyraunt]

ᘛ But maybe there is no one to answer your prayer.

[tyraunt]

- “…It would be quite foolish if I did not notice it - I would’ve been dead a long time ago if I could not acknowledge the presence of potential threats.”

Miran was something like that right now. If he appeared because he wanted to or not… honestly, he could not answer it. His thoughts were elsewhere the whole trip, and this peaceful atmosphere was unnerving. It forced him to let his guard down, even in such a place.

He wouldn’t be easily killed, but giving the enemies advantage was never something that you should do. There was a moment where the king simply analyzed Miran without saying a word, from his face to his clothes. The way he portrayed himself, the way he carefully picked his words… until crimson eyes were fixed on his ring.

An odd accessory. He did strike as a somewhat vain man, but such things could be a hassle should the opportunity to fight presented itself. For now, he’d simply avoid looking into things too much. There were more pressing matters.

- “…Kaleb Blackwood. I suppose titles are of no importance here, so I will spare you from them.”

He simply turned his body so he could fully face the other male, letting silence settle between the two of them before speaking again. This was strange. No… not this situation. But the way this was all playing out. 

- “… Have you been following me?”

It was more than obvious that he desired a direct and clear answer to this question. No, not desired… demanded would be the better word here. 

He had no use to people who lied, after all.

- “If yes, then I want to know your reason. I expect you to say the truth, if you seek to remain on good terms with me.”

If Miran still desired to live, that is.

[thekingshound]

"Kaleb Blackwood," he said, as though rolling the words across his tongue to determine the taste. After a moment he smiled, seemingly satisfied. "Once more your observations surpass my expectations," he said, "You are correct―I spotted you from some distance away and followed you here. As for why..." He paused to smile thinly, as though laughing silently at some inner joke. "You could say I was attracted by your light, or rather the light that struggles within you."

"You may not believe me, but that is the truth," he finished, with no explanation for his cryptic statement. "Whether or not you choose to trust me is not important, simply know that I am no threat to you."

[tyraunt]

ᘛ But maybe there is no one to answer your prayer.

It has been a while… but his mind was still not clear. His objectives were still there. However, there was no way to accomplish anything right now. For some reason, he could remember what was necessary to keep going on… and he had no intent of leaving the place he was currently in. Even though his kingdom needed him… 

No, you could say he was not capable of leaving. Kaleb spent a week wandering about the place, and sometimes he’d just return to the place where he started it all. Brute force didn’t seem to work either; it’d just force him to become more and more exhausted.

It was bothersome, to say the least. He found himself out of town and had been following this path to apparently nowhere for a while, now.

- “…”

Something like that was definitely not usual, but there was no comment from his side. Kaleb simply kept looking at the floating stones, the unreliable and odd path they formed.  He wouldn’t bother with those, now. If he felt like checking where they’d lead (and he had this faint thought that it’d not prove to be a successful venture), perhaps he should come back sometime?

His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the presence of someone. Whoever this was… didn’t bother being careful at all with hiding their presence. But that was fine.

- “.. Who is there?”

[thekingshound]

A tall figure appeared, seeming almost to melt away from the shadows.

"How observant," he remarked mildly. "There are not many who notice my presence unless I wish it so." There was an unspoken addendum there, that perhaps he had indeed wished it, and revealed himself to the man before him intentionally.

"I am Miran Froaude," he said, dropping to one knee gracefully. The white-haired man before him had the presence of royalty, carried himself with a pride that made one feel obligated to bow. Aside from that, seeing the man had stirred something in the muddled fog of Miran's memories that he couldn't place. Miran had seen him from far away and followed him here to observe him, feeling somehow pulled along by the man.

Rising, Miran kept his right hand delicately over his heart in a show of deference. The black ring on his finger there glinted dimly, unnaturally. His heart fluttered against his ribcage, but he kept his face a serene mask, betraying nothing of the strange, nameless apprehension he felt.

"A pleasure to meet you."

[allformulas]

  ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▊ ▊ ▊ ▋ ▋ ▋ ▋

             ┏━━━ ━━━ ━━━┓                 ❛❛ м σ п ƨ т ε я ❞              ┗━━━ ━━━ ━━━┛ 

   ✗✗✗ ▪ ▪ it’s hiding in the ＤＡＲＫ

           ✗✗✗ ▪ ▪ its teeth are razor ＳＨＡＲＰ

                  i must ｃｏｎｆｅｓｓ that i feel like α мσпƨтεя

► the king’s hound…

                                     ▋ ▋ ▋ ▋ ▊ ▊ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉

Talking to Miran… to the man whose heart was as dark and shriveled as a raisin… the thought of it makes Ryner’s skin crawl. But he has something important to discuss with him. It’s disgusting, but… ugh.

“Both. I need to talk to you about Sion. It’s important.”

[thekingshound]

　　　　　　　　        　☾ the { k i n g ' s } нσυηδ ☽

↘↘↘ｉ　ｗａｌｋ　ａ　ｌｏｎｅｌｙ　ｒｏａｄ                      ✄ 「mood; pensive」

     ↘↘↘ｔｈｅ　ｏｎｌｙ　ｏｎｅ　ｔｈａｔ　ｉ　ｈａｖｅ　ｅｖｅｒ　ｋｎｏｗｎ                                 ✄ 「my heart belongs to; his majesty sion astal」

                                      ♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦

"About Sion?" His hackles raise at that. Since the very beginning, this man has been the major block between Miran and Sion's long, gorgeous... legs. To think that he would have the nerve to show up here, right before Miran's eyes.

"Someone like you has no place beside my king," Miran says darkly. "I will dispose of you here and now, then nothing will stand between me and his majesty!!"

[thekingshound]

❝my s h a d o w ' s the { only } one     that ωαℓкѕ beside me. . .❞

☾ many different people ☽ have b e g u n to walk in 

                     ↘↘ｄａｒｋｎｅｓｓ↙↙

✄ ; A tall, slender man stands silhouetted against the wide, bright windows of an elegantly decorated room. Slowly, he turns, bows very slightly in greeting.

"What brings you here?"

"Do you have business with my king?" he asks evenly, before adding in a lower voice, "Or do you have business with me?"

[thekingshound]

why would i be jealous of you, who needs heika (be)d when i’ve got heika d(arkness)

[allformulas]

yeah ok u go ahead and satisfy yourself with his d(arkness) while i remain the one he actually wants 2 thrust his long hard rod in2

im talking about his (swor)d tho dont go getting any weird ideas

[thekingshound]

no no, my king need not dirty his hands with such unsightly business--i will take care of you myself

i hope youre not overly attached the idea of having all your limbs

[weaverofallformulas]

was that a joke i am always here

[thekingshound]

...point taken.

but i haven't seen you around lately regardless. haven't been slacking on the job, have we?

[weaverofallformulas]

y’all need to calm the fuck down

[thekingshound]

why, duke eris, what brings you here

[allformulas]

gettin jealous huh furo. the only one w access to the heika (be)d is ME thank u very much

[thekingshound]

why would i be jealous of you, who needs heika (be)d when i've got heika d(arkness)

[thekingshound]

heika give me the d

[allformulas]

get ur dog germs off my bed frickface

[thekingshound]

um excuse you this is not YOUR BED this bed is sole property of his majesty sion astal

...even if youre the only one who ever sleeps in it