Perchance a soul, by fortune's cruel decree, should light upon this... Blog. Then must I, with what grace the cosmos grants, unfold myself.
I am the sovereign, 'tis true, o'er that which shall one distant morn arise from dust and mortal strife. The King in Yellow, Hastur named, or by what title man doth choose to laud my coming â 'tis all one. Let them utter what they will. For when the destined hour strikes, and doom's dark banners fly â when the fateful chime doth sound, each knee shall bend.
King of Carcosa lost, the Dim Carcosa, where twin suns burn in skies of amber light.
Perchance my hand may venture forth to share captured likenesses, these phantoms born of other eyes. For though their artistry doth stray from what I know myself to be, some strange delight doth flicker in their lines.
OOC UNDERCUT:
!ATTENTION! I HATE AI. I DON'T USE AI WILLINGLY (FUCK YOU, GOOGLE). YOU WILL PRY THE EMDASH AND THE SEMICOLON AND THE OXFORD COMMA FROM MY COLD. DEAD. HANDS!
Okay so I really wanted to make a sfawtde rp blog 'cause i be crazy over minecraft rp's </3
Soooo, KING IN YELLOW REAL NOT CLICKBAIT !!!
Feel free to interact!! Reblog, send asks â rp is the whole reason i made it lolz! At the same time, don't feel pressured to interact or continue a reblog thread, because we all gotta sleep and unplug from time to time!
What the last in-character paragraph means in I'll be reblogging fanart of the KIY 'cause I really like peoples interpretations (And what's a king without their pride? The all-knowing immortal god can be vain as a treat!)
HAH! A jest that curdles the very being of mortal kindness. Perchance, in some far-flung sphere where the stars do dance a different measure, I might find thee worthy of a place within my court, and there bestow upon thee favour.
But nayâthy sorry jape hath no more substance than a shadow's breath. As for these tattered weeds thou wouldst have me don, I would sooner clothe myself in nettles and the scorn of heaven than suffer such rags upon my royal form. And I would sooner invite to dine with the adder than with thee.
Translation below.
HAH! What a foul jest. Perhaps I would have you for my court in another universe. But alas, your pitiful joke has no true merit. I would never clothe myself in such scathing rags. I'd such rather invite a thief to my table than you.
Now I do unsay itâthou wouldst make a sorry jester indeed. For the finest fools are armed with nimble wit; a weapon thou dost plainly lack. Think not I am trapped within some painted game, for here I stand, speaking to thee in the greatest representation, dull-witted creature. Understandâst thou?
Though I grant thee this: Thy antics do stir a laugh within my breast, yet it is no more than the mirth a man might feel when his simple house-beast, lacking reason, doth gnaw upon a wireâa sport for the idle eye, not a jest for the discerning ear.
Translation below.
I take it back. You would not be a sorry jester. The best jesters have wit, which you clearly are without. I am not stuck in a videogame, as I am speaking to you now. Understand? Though I find it within me to laugh at your antics, it is simply akin to a mortal laughing at one of their unintelligent little house-beasts chewing on wires.
Maybe Iâm just lowering my humor to interact on a level youâd get.
Also, âhouse beastsâ are smarter than you think. Iâd know from my experience with a certain other cat, but tangent aside.
The argument of whether Iâd jester well is moot because I wouldnât lower myself to the position of service to anyone. You lower yourself to internet discourse and dying in block game to smart lord guy.
Is it not but a matter of unequal footing upon a strange and foreign ground? I grant thee: I did lose the first skirmish with yonder lord, and fled to this corner for shelter. Yet thou, too, dost dwell within this codeâthou dost thrust thyself into this very "internet discourse."
Thou hadst no need to turn mine eyes toward a 'video game' jest, and yet thou didst. Had that lord met me upon my own domain, where every stone and shadow knows my hand, I should have laid him low ere he could draw a second breath.
Translation below.
It's simply a matter of unequal footing within unfamiliar terrain, is it not? Though I lost the first battle with the lord and fled to this center of code for refuge, you, too, live within this realm, inserting yourself into "internet discourse."
You needed not to bring my attention towards this "video game" reference, and yet you did. Had the lord met me on mine familiar grounds, I would have no doubted a swift success.
Iâm not here for refuge, Iâm here for recreation. Very different. Speaking of losing skirmishes, Iâm sure you remember our last chat :3
I showed you the video game joke because, as I have said before, it funny to mock you.
Yeah, youâd beat a human in Carcosa. In other news, water wet. Iâm playing the humiliation of the defeat: even if there were aggravating circumstances, ya still lost.
Thou dost prattle like a witless fool upon the common street, whose tongue doth clatter with no weight of sense. I spake but of thy presence in this place, not whether thou hadst sought a safe hearth hence. Full well I know the childish glee that dances in thine eye when thou dost think to wound me with thy mockery. I pity the fey that must endure thy company beyond this page, for thou art a wearisome guest to any realm.
Mark this: the gulf that lies between us is thisâI do not wallow in the mire of shame, nor dwell upon the ashes of what is lost. I build from ruin. From the code stolen of the game, from the very sinews of this internet, I forge my living and labour toward true purpose. What follies dost thou harbour, fey one? Dost thou think to beat thy tiny wings in frantic rage until the world doth yield to thy desire? Or wilt thou mock and cozen, until some hollow counterfeit of joy doth flicker in thy breast?
Translation below.
You speak of me like a fool on the street. I spoke only of your presence within here, not whether you stayed for safe living. I know fine the childish glee you feel when you attempt to throw mockery, and I pity the fey that needs amuse you when away from my page.
Know the differences between us are these. I do not wallow in shame nor dwell on loss. I build from these. From the code I took from the game, and the very life work of the internet, I forge my living and work towards my goals.
And what silly goals might you have, fey? Flap your little wings in tantrum until you get what you want? Taunt and mock until you feel some imitation of joy?
HAH! A jest that curdles the very being of mortal kindness. Perchance, in some far-flung sphere where the stars do dance a different measure, I might find thee worthy of a place within my court, and there bestow upon thee favour.
But nayâthy sorry jape hath no more substance than a shadow's breath. As for these tattered weeds thou wouldst have me don, I would sooner clothe myself in nettles and the scorn of heaven than suffer such rags upon my royal form. And I would sooner invite to dine with the adder than with thee.
Translation below.
HAH! What a foul jest. Perhaps I would have you for my court in another universe. But alas, your pitiful joke has no true merit. I would never clothe myself in such scathing rags. I'd such rather invite a thief to my table than you.
Now I do unsay itâthou wouldst make a sorry jester indeed. For the finest fools are armed with nimble wit; a weapon thou dost plainly lack. Think not I am trapped within some painted game, for here I stand, speaking to thee in the greatest representation, dull-witted creature. Understandâst thou?
Though I grant thee this: Thy antics do stir a laugh within my breast, yet it is no more than the mirth a man might feel when his simple house-beast, lacking reason, doth gnaw upon a wireâa sport for the idle eye, not a jest for the discerning ear.
Translation below.
I take it back. You would not be a sorry jester. The best jesters have wit, which you clearly are without. I am not stuck in a videogame, as I am speaking to you now. Understand? Though I find it within me to laugh at your antics, it is simply akin to a mortal laughing at one of their unintelligent little house-beasts chewing on wires.
Maybe Iâm just lowering my humor to interact on a level youâd get.
Also, âhouse beastsâ are smarter than you think. Iâd know from my experience with a certain other cat, but tangent aside.
The argument of whether Iâd jester well is moot because I wouldnât lower myself to the position of service to anyone. You lower yourself to internet discourse and dying in block game to smart lord guy.
Is it not but a matter of unequal footing upon a strange and foreign ground? I grant thee: I did lose the first skirmish with yonder lord, and fled to this corner for shelter. Yet thou, too, dost dwell within this codeâthou dost thrust thyself into this very "internet discourse."
Thou hadst no need to turn mine eyes toward a 'video game' jest, and yet thou didst. Had that lord met me upon my own domain, where every stone and shadow knows my hand, I should have laid him low ere he could draw a second breath.
Translation below.
It's simply a matter of unequal footing within unfamiliar terrain, is it not? Though I lost the first battle with the lord and fled to this center of code for refuge, you, too, live within this realm, inserting yourself into "internet discourse."
You needed not to bring my attention towards this "video game" reference, and yet you did. Had the lord met me on mine familiar grounds, I would have no doubted a swift success.
HAH! A jest that curdles the very being of mortal kindness. Perchance, in some far-flung sphere where the stars do dance a different measure, I might find thee worthy of a place within my court, and there bestow upon thee favour.
But nayâthy sorry jape hath no more substance than a shadow's breath. As for these tattered weeds thou wouldst have me don, I would sooner clothe myself in nettles and the scorn of heaven than suffer such rags upon my royal form. And I would sooner invite to dine with the adder than with thee.
Translation below.
HAH! What a foul jest. Perhaps I would have you for my court in another universe. But alas, your pitiful joke has no true merit. I would never clothe myself in such scathing rags. I'd such rather invite a thief to my table than you.
Now I do unsay itâthou wouldst make a sorry jester indeed. For the finest fools are armed with nimble wit; a weapon thou dost plainly lack. Think not I am trapped within some painted game, for here I stand, speaking to thee in the greatest representation, dull-witted creature. Understandâst thou?
Though I grant thee this: Thy antics do stir a laugh within my breast, yet it is no more than the mirth a man might feel when his simple house-beast, lacking reason, doth gnaw upon a wireâa sport for the idle eye, not a jest for the discerning ear.
Translation below.
I take it back. You would not be a sorry jester. The best jesters have wit, which you clearly are without. I am not stuck in a videogame, as I am speaking to you now. Understand? Though I find it within me to laugh at your antics, it is simply akin to a mortal laughing at one of their unintelligent little house-beasts chewing on wires.
HAH! A jest that curdles the very being of mortal kindness. Perchance, in some far-flung sphere where the stars do dance a different measure, I might find thee worthy of a place within my court, and there bestow upon thee favour.
But nayâthy sorry jape hath no more substance than a shadow's breath. As for these tattered weeds thou wouldst have me don, I would sooner clothe myself in nettles and the scorn of heaven than suffer such rags upon my royal form. And I would sooner invite to dine with the adder than with thee.
Translation below.
HAH! What a foul jest. Perhaps I would have you for my court in another universe. But alas, your pitiful joke has no true merit. I would never clothe myself in such scathing rags. I'd such rather invite a thief to my table than you.
I am writing this as greetings as a fellow ruler, and offering an opportunity for an alliance. An exchange of allyship (or however you spell it) between both our Kingdom. As leader of the Illager Empire, I believe it might be beneficial for both of us.
With deepest condolences,
A.L.
P.s: STAY OFF MY FEED WITH YOUR STUPID GAY PEOPLE.
- @thearch-illager
After long and weighty scrutiny of thy realm's petition, I find myself suspended 'twixt two courses. This alliance thou dost proffer, Arch Illager, I shall neither take into mine arms nor cast aside.
Thou art, in truth, a lesser sovereign, a shadow where a throne should stand; but I am gracious, and grace may stoop to lift the lowly. Here, in this borrowed realm, far from Carcosaâs walls where my power doth run full and fierce, I must needs bend my will to compromiseâa bitter draughtâyet one I shall sip.
So speak, then. Unfold this bond before me, and tell me how its threads should weave a profit for my crown.
"P.S." By the sceptre I do wield within this realm of letters, their mention of that yonder vessel and his lordling shall be as a stone cast into a deep well; for I am the keeper of this corner of the world.
Translation below.
Arch Illager, after careful review of your kingdom's representation, I shall not accept nor reject this allyship proposition. Though you are a ruler of a power beneath mine, I find it within me to give you grace. As I reside outside my kingdom of Carcosa, where my power flows strongâI must compromise to achieve my goals. Tell me more how this bond may benefit my rule.
P.S. Trust me, the vessel and his lord will not be a common reference within my section of rule upon this site.
Me sliding in with an ooc ask again for you blog OP: it would be SUCH fun I'd love to poke ya about it more - do you have dm messages open for the side blog, are you comfy w sharing your main to chatter about it? I'm pondering your hastur like those wizards pondering their orbs thing fr fr I'm lov his long winded ass
hi !!! I would love love to talk bout my version of hastur if you'd still like to !! my main is @frogfriog :D
shits been crazy chat lowk forgot to say I'm not posting for a loooong ass while cause I'm moving across the US (currently posting from Tennessee on the road to NY)
ssooo sorry bout that !! not missing, and blogs not abandoned just on a break for a week or so more (still won't have reliable wifi for a good bit o time)
dw y'all the drama queen in yellow shall return at some point soon
Since this is an ask.. how does it feel to get wrecked by some rando in armor and his doomed yaoi slime guy?
â from the bitchass archfae @lowkeylokilies
'Tis but a fleeting twitch no less a torment than the tedious toil of dealing with thy paltry kind. What care I for the fleeting passions of mortals, or for lesser beings, the mer? To toy with Heav'n's own majesty in such a child's-play manner doth forge within me a wish most potent, to sprout ethereal eyes, that I might cast them heavenward, a roll of cosmic scorn upon thy impudent charade!
Translation: It feels the same amount of annoying as it is to interact with you. I care not for the feelings felt by mortals or mer. To taunt a god in such a childish way makes me wish to form eyes just to roll them at you.
Perchance it doth not pierce mine eye with shock, that one of so slight vision, and so prone to thrust his nose where it doth not belong, would cast a look upon such matters. What doth arrest my thought, is thy bold carriage. Thy self-adorning pride, whilst all thy substance is but straws thou clutchest at, to claim some hollow "victory." Thou art a mummer, a painted fool, who doth embrace his foolishness with such a glee, as if a jester's cap adorned thy brow. 'Tis as if I kept a motley fool, whose wit doth serve but to provoke a jesting discourse.
Translation: It's no surprise to me that a creature as meddlesome as you would view something that way. What I find interesting is your willingness to hold yourself with such pitiful glee as if you're not grasping at straws to "score." It is as if I have a court jester to carry a humorous conversation with.
Hi hello ooc ask for the blog OP: I'm fucking crying laughing at your king he's so dramatic, id love to chatter to ya about maybe doing an RP with your King and my Der? I run @d3r-the-golden-spartan I feel like these two would either get along like a house on fire or get along like two cats fighting and I'm here for it LMAO
OOC:
hiii !! that sounds awesome I love bickering with people as kiy and would looove to rp with a der !! :D
Since this is an ask.. how does it feel to get wrecked by some rando in armor and his doomed yaoi slime guy?
â from the bitchass archfae @lowkeylokilies
'Tis but a fleeting twitch no less a torment than the tedious toil of dealing with thy paltry kind. What care I for the fleeting passions of mortals, or for lesser beings, the mer? To toy with Heav'n's own majesty in such a child's-play manner doth forge within me a wish most potent, to sprout ethereal eyes, that I might cast them heavenward, a roll of cosmic scorn upon thy impudent charade!
Translation: It feels the same amount of annoying as it is to interact with you. I care not for the feelings felt by mortals or mer. To taunt a god in such a childish way makes me wish to form eyes just to roll them at you.
Though colours swarm and dance, I find no passion stirred within my breast for gilded gleam or sapphire's deep allure. Yet, if some hand should force my tongue to name one ray that doth my favour hold, I might confess, by fleeting human whim, that yonder hue of yellow bright, perchance doth touch the fringe of what they call a choice. Plain as is the sun in the midday sky, or the blood that courses within thy veins.
Translation: I dont really care for favorite colors but if I had to say by mortal perceptions, my favorite color would be yellow. Obviously.
Thou deem'st me proud? A puffed-up lord of air? Nay, listen close, thou speck! For I am not some fleeting lord of mortal dust, but a very God am I, whose breath doth shape the stars and whose decree doth bend the spheres! This flesh and word ye see, 'tis but a cloak I wear, a fleeting guise upon a soul that knew no birth, nor shall it ever know an end. I am; and by heaven, am I more than thou canst e'er conceive!
Translation: You call me pretentious? I AM A GOD. Just because you see me manifested as virtual words doesn't make my power any more potent.
I will not shrink my tongue to please thy weakling ear, nor shall my words be humbled that thy scanty wit may find a solace in their shade! Seek thee a wider realm, wherein thy sovereign power may freely sway. And lest thy envy sear thee, take heed: thou shalt ne'er be scorched by this, my overflowing store of silvered coin and gems that gleam and mock thy flesh.
Translation: I will not dumb down my speech just so you can feel better about your own vocabulary. Get a better domain to rule over, and try not to burn yourself on my surplus of silver coins and jewels.
YOU CAN'T CROSS RUNNING WATER. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF I SPRINKLED SALT AROUND YOU? CAST A SCRAMBLED ILLUSION? ARCHFEY ARE LITTLE MORE THAN GLORIFIED BEETLES NEXT TO A POWER LIKE MINE. A POWER THAT CAN WITHSTAND THE NOISE OF IRON BELLS.
A KING MAY ONCE LOSE TO A LORD, BUT MILLIONS MAY MORTALS OUTWIT FAE BY SIMPLY APPEALING TO EGO. HAH.
Thou speakest as though the fey do slumber whilst mortals tread their mystic circles, whilst children skip where toadstools rise like emerald thrones! Doth their ire ne'er stir for such a trespass? Whence doth this notion rise, thee hearts ne'er know "angy"? Thou prancest forth, puffed with pride, as if the King himself, descending from his starry height, confers a boon upon thy petty soul! Nay, thou art mistaken, shallow thing. My condescension is no prize for thee to hoard, but a grace, which thou shouldst hold more dear than your life itself. Thy boast of knowledge is but hollow airâAnd my facts, like stars, do shine in truth. Thou art but a flickering candle in their light.
Translation: Spoken as though the fae have never gotten "angy" over a mortal merely stepping into a ring of mushrooms. You act all high and mighty as if the King stooping low enough to look down upon you is a win on your part. It is nothing but a gift you should revere. I hold all the knowledge of the varying cosmos grand universes, after all.
My win was, as the doomed yaoi slimy boy might say, ragebait. You got riled and lost composure. We keep our composure and screw with mortals who transgress, you yap on the hellsight.
Dost thou feign a virtue thou hast ne'er possessed? Thou speakest as if ne'er a tedious hour hath crossed thy path! This teeming digital globe, this "hellsite" thou dost scorn, hath become mine own peculiar stageâMine sole diversion since that proud vessel and his lordling banished me from their gaze. Hath not every tale its ebb and flow, its soaring heights and its comical descent? And I, who am I but the scribe of this unfolding play?
Translation: Don't act like you've never been bored before. This "hellsite" is entertainment for me as I've no place in this one miniscule universe ever since the vessel and his lord banished me. Every story needs its lows, highs, and comedic relief. And what am I but an author?
Dost thou perceive no subtlety, no shade, no interwoven thread of fate in all this grand design? Very well, then. Perchance I am the very protagonist of this cosmic drama, the universe itself but ink that flows from quill; whilst thou art but a gnat that buzzed too near my boot, and earned naught but my heedless tread. The play, as ever, must proceed. Dost thou not agree? In realms beyond this mortal coil, it is I, indeed, who holds the pen. Thee must pray, may thy fate not cast thee hence upon the shores of Carcosa. Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed shall dry and die in Lost Carcosa.
Translation: Do you know no nuance? Fine. Perhaps I am the lead of this play written by this very universe. I find you're still but a bug I find I don't care to avoid stepping on. The show must go on, don't you agree? In universes elsewhere I truly am the scribe. Pray you don't stumble upon the shores of Carcosa. Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed shall dry and die in Lost Carcosa.
Ooh, nice play quotes. You just went like âyeah I am the scribe because yeahâ or âyeah Iâm the main character because yeahâ. I donât feel like a âgnatâ, nor do I feel very stepped on.
So, in summary, I say you talk pretentious, you crash out and go all âI am da big god!â On me, I mock you for yapping and losing to your players. You call me stupid and try to flex wealth in your silver coins or whatever, I point out that youâre in a video game like a loser. In response, you hammer on the caps lock key and man thy battle station like a redditor. To be perfectly fair, you have a few points: fae weaknesses are arbitrary. But we actually exist outside of block game.
Thou art no hero of this play, but a pawn, whose consequence doth shrink to naught like some forgotten goblet stained with common brew. Then this honour shall indeed fall upon mine own shoulders. And to deem me trapped within a game, a thought as shallow as a puddle's reach! For here, confined to webs of distant lands, I needs must watch, a silent, reasoned eye. Thou mistak'st me for a pestilence, a blight to be dispell'd. Must I then speak again, and ring it clear: I am a god! In realms beyond this sphere, I have the chosen form embraced. In another I am with the lordling merged, a single soul. In one just further, I have reshaped worlds, as pleased my will, and seen such transformations with my own keen sight, repeated oft, and oft again.
Translation: Well, you are certainly no protagonist. You hold yourself with the same importance as a stained coffee ccup. And to call me trapped in a videogame is short sighted. HERE I am limited to the interwebs, forced to step back and observe. You mistake me for a virus. Must I reiterate I am a god? In another universe I successfully took the vessel. In another universe I am one with the lordling. In another universe I transformed this world how I saw fit. Many times have I seen it first hand.
I was unaware AUs were fair game for ego-stroking, sounds like cheating to me. Other you-s did stuff, but this you didnât. Sure, in another realm, you may have conquered my reality and blah blah. But then.. we got 3 things
Thing the first: why canât you do that? Seems like youâre the worst you. Great argument
Thing le duexiem (Francais parce-que porquois non): If youâre confined to realities, that is.. pretty non-godly. Way I see it, real big G gods transcend AUs. But maybe Iâm a coffee mug or whatever.
Le trousiem (totally misspelled that): if AUs count, I bet I could find one where I rule the world. Thereâre a buncha other realities, so theyâre not great evidence.
Thou speakest of confinement, gnat, yet mistakest the cage for the spirit. "Another I" hath acted, yet this very "I" persists, as though the self were but a suite of rooms, wherein I move from chamber unto chamber, much as thou dost, to seek a change of scene. This very space, I cannot bend unto my whim, forsooth, not for the selfsame cause that doth thy kind debar from breaking faith. The lordling spoke the spellâThe oath, and I, similar to any vessel meant to hold a tide, am tethered fast. Yet let it be known, our kinship ends precisely there. Thy third premise doth fall as weak as gossamer in tempest's breath; for you cannot traipse the cosmos as I can.
Translation: That's the thing, bug. I'm not confined to realities like you are. "Another me" did something and yet I am me. This me, that me; they are simply rooms I go to much like you creatures do when wanting to scurry off to this location and the next. The only reason I cannot make this room bend to my will are the same reasons you fae cannot break a promise. The lordling spoke the spellâThe oath, and I am bound by it much like the vessel would have been. Fortunately our similarities end there. You cannot walk the universes as I do.
