SOMETHING WICKED. ⁽ ᵃᵖ ⁾

o, full of scorpions is my mind !

[phantomemes]

rp sentence starters using lines from richard siken’s work , war of the foxes.  

“ what’s there to be faithful to? ” “ i have my body and you have yours. ” “ but go ahead, yell at yourself. ” “ some people don’t understand anything. ” “ let’s kill something. ” “ what does a man want? ” “ why take more than we need? ” “ you’d break your heart to make it bigger. ” “ i thought of myself as a city. ” “ will you defend yourself? ” “ i prefer to blame others, it’s easier. ” “ it helps to have an anchor. ” “ we throw ourselves into the future. ” “ what is a ghost? ” “ i glued my head back on. ” “ sooner or later they go to ground and rot. ” “ everyone runs the risk of being swallowed up. ” “ the bodies decompose eventually. ” “ you can try, but we will not remain unscathed. ” “ abandon your will and let the world have its way with you. ” “ when you have nothing to say, set something on fire. ” “ i gave shape to my fears and made excuses. ” “ something’s not right about what i’m doing but i’m still doing it. ” “ the enormity of my desire disgusts me. ” “ want something to chase you? run. ” “ take a body, maybe your own, and dump it gently. ” “ take only what you need. ” “ never finish a war without starting another. ” “ i’ve seen your true face. ” “ if you were walking away, keep walking. ” “ everyone needs a place. ” “ why do anything at all? ” “ who gets to measure the distance between experience and its representation? ” “ everything is a metaphor for itself. ” “ the night sky is vast and wide. ” “ i owe myself nothing. ” “ i like dead things, they cannot hurt me. ” “ there’s not enough room for us to be ourselves. ” “ my body is a graveyard. ” “ everyone wants a battlefield. ” “ people like to think war means something. ” “ love might be the wrong word. ” “ let’s admit, without apology, what we do to each other. ” “ all stories are the wrong story if you’re impatient. ” “ some say god is where we put our sorrow. ” “ in the wrong light anyone can look like darkness. ” “ some people like to hear the sound of their own voice. ” “ ____ took the gods and made them human. ” “ i am afraid. ” “ i put my sadness in a box. ” “ i think that you might like it here. ” “ i tell you these things because i love you. ” “ everything casts a shadow. ” “ i surrender my desire to be healed. ” “ shame means you’re guilty, like the rest of us. ” “ maybe it’s better if my opponent wins. ” “ you want it to mean something. ” “ you are what you cover up.”  “ one wonders why a story like this exists. ”  “ i want to give you more but not everything. you don’t need everything. ”  “ someone has to leave first. ”

[voidregnant]

🐀 his name is hillingham

          I’m crying dad I love him so much 

[maskedsinmovedlmao]

corvo: u okay? emily, crying: yea it was just these onions corvo, holding a knife over onions: what the fuck did you say to my daughter 

[maskedsinmovedlmao]

moodboard meme ( accepting ) :  @voidregnant said:💛 I stg dad

a board for our muse’s relationship : your hands are scarred with murder, but i trust them completely.

[voidregnant]

♛     ╱    MOTHER !   ❪ come back home ❫

FOR ALL SHE’S LEARNED IN THOSE MONTHS,     dunwall no longer believes in tears. those weeping in the sewers are doomed to only one fate; widowed men and women, parents that have lost their children to the pandyssian demise   —-   they are weeping too, and, perhaps, are to end up only ever… weeping, before they are given the chance to meet with their loved ones. should the outsider, the whale god, the gift-giver be so kind.

he is not. or else, why would he watch so apathetically as small children weep, sometimes tears, sometimes blood? no, the outsider never believed in tears. but jessamine will let her daughter cry; she will soothe and kiss her forehead, kiss her cheeks, kiss the salty water away.

‘ …no, no, my darling. what they said no longer matters. but… tell me, emily, did they… — ’ a swallow. she decides that she will publicly execute the pendleton twins, should emily say the word. no, she will —-  

‘ tell me, darling, what happened after… after they took you away? it is very important. ’

her fingers are almost shaking as they cup emily’s face     —–     she fears the worst, but now it is only half anxiety. half pure, barely stabilised rage. rage as cold as the void, but, something akin to whale oil, it takes a simple spark for it to blow up. they need to get out, soon, but    —-  

‘  no one is going to take you from me now and ever again, emily. i promise.  ’

          Oh, relief, sweet relief !  Some feeling of warmth floods through her, something akin to comfort she has not felt in weeks. Against the warmth of HER MOTHER, she feels safe, and in her arms, she feels content. But the tears cannot, do not stop as even if she holds her, the young girl’s face is drenched with sobs. Her voice is equally gripped with these tears, wiping them away as viciously as possible, despite knowing she is perhaps the only person who would permit her to cry, and cry and cry. 

          ❝ They... they, uh... ❞     a sniff, a cough as both hands sweep her hair to the side,     ❝ they... they asked me questions ; asked me if I could give them power over THE THRONE, some stuff about, um... about PARLIAMENT, or something like that. When I said no, they’d... they’d throw me in here... ❞     And it floods back : all those nights alone, cold and dark and dangerous and strange... and she was dead, CORVO was dead —

          ❝ They called you bad things... and I — I was so scared, MOTHER... I was... ❞     She cannot bear another thought, diving into her arms to dry and drown the pain away in the warmth of her embrace. The sobs flow, like THE WRENHAVEN out to sea : eternal, strong and powerful.     ❝ Will you keep that promise? Please don’t leave me, MOTHER, please... ❞

[voidregnant]

♛     ╱    FATHER.   ❪ lost, fonder memories ❫

                 there is a warmth in his tone and a smile that is only meant for her. for her mother once, long gone to time, for family emily will never get to meet. she is left, and oh how dear she is to his heart. dunwall could drown in itself if it meant she would get so much as a paper cut otherwise. he would reach out a hand, the one not wrapped to hide what it should, would simply smile and nod. ❛  i know you’re not a child. ❛  a sigh, a roll of the eyes, though joking. he feels old. ❛  you don’t have to remind me.   ❛

              emily would never see him softer than when she agrees. it is a favorite memory, one of many. jessamine reading and him singing as she drifted. even in the hound pits would he have tried to continue, and feel the loss when he spent that time out in dunwall’s darkness.❛  whatever you like, sweetheart.  ❛ but the intrigue is undeniable.

          Those ravens and vultures, sycophants and cronies and gentility sneaking through the ranks of THE DUNWALL COURT, will never see her smile. The one she gives them is false, based on diplomacy and desperation to show good image, or something to show out of pity or fear. But around the only man she trusts wholeheartedly, laughs and grins and any emotion becomes genuine. They had seen each other at the worst point in their life, and would undoubtedly vow to see each other in the best.     ❝ I’m sorry, FATHER. I don’t suppose you need me to tell you how old you’re getting. ❞

          Of course the role that HER MOTHER had in her life could never be duplicated, in all the joy it gave her, in all its sums. But his own comfort — the love he exuded for her, all he was and would be willing to sacrifice — is enough to make her rethink that. He had done his best to play both roles for her growing up in as dangerous an environment as DUNWALL TOWER, and she could never forget that.     ❝ I don’t have to be in bed for you to tell me a story or sing a song, right? ❞     She leans forward, regal hands quaintly on his desk as she eases herself into the chair.     ❝ How about one right now? ❞

[acecroft]

[maskedsinmovedlmao]

[mskirona]

(ಥ﹏ಥ)

[voidregnant]

♛     ╱    MOTHER?   ❪ come back home ❫

@voidregnant         /         PLOTTED.

    THERE IS NOTHING IN THE WORLD A MOTHER WOULDN’T DO FOR HER CHILD.         falling from the very pinnacle of her power to the deepest pits of dunwall, hidden places where only the damned would lurk       —-       it wasn’t nearly as bad as knowing emily was out there, somewhere, her well-being and life itself no doubt endangered. knowing that she thought everyone she loved and counted upon was dead. crying in her sleep, calling for her mother…

you’ll know what to do; those were the last words the protector heard. but do you know what to do? what precious principles of yours are you ready to sacrifice          ———–

his heart was heavy; it frightened her how she failed to realise the whole impact this life, and she herself, had on corvo                ——                and now that it has occurred to her, it was all too late. it was now her burden to carry, hers alone, and yet even after his death, it was his voice she clung to in the dark, when all else was failing, when she thought her guiding star went out for good, was gone forever.

jessamine kaldwin, no longer the empress, was standing in the doorway, her face pale in the half-light, eyes shining as if in fever. her daughter was drawing        —-        she looked safe. unharmed?

‘  emily  ——   ’   she almost didn’t recognize her own voice,   ‘   i’m here. i’ve come to take you     —–  ’   home? no, there was no such thing anymore; the very concept of home perished with the last breath of corvo attano. ‘ to a safe place. ’  

          It had happened too fast : the swinging of swords, the spill of BLOOD, the sounds of screaming and the thud of a body, heart racing to go back to the safe confines of THE TOWER, but one blink of her eyes and she was somewhere else. A child cannot mourn in a place like this, in a place where no one would find her ; those conniving PENDLETONS made that very clear. The only thing she knew in those weeks were loneliness : an wordless pain, silence despite the whole world collapsing in the four walls around her. It almost seems impossible, unreal, and soon MOTHER will come into the room, late into the hours of the night, hold her close and wipe her tears and tell her that this is all just a bad dream —

          But alas, MOTHER — her sole confidant, her dearest, the person she loved most in the world — somewhere unknown, dead and gone ! CORVO — the hero of her many stories, the subjects of her little masterpieces, the closest thing she would ever have to her unknown father — slain like a dog, dead and gone ! What sort of fool is she to think there is any kindness left in the world, when it has taken so much from her?

          And yet, the world can still be kind. This figure by the doorway has not the gait of the brothers, but owns a voice both steely and kind, only to her. The tears sting her eyes, after crying for many and many a night out of fear ; these ones are shed from joy.     ❝ Is that you, MOTHER? Is that really you? ❞

          She runs, runs like her life depends on it ( and it does, more than they both know ) , embraces her as tightly as she can, burying her face into the only home she has ever known.     ❝ I missed you so much, MOMMY. I though you were — they said that... ❞     And the rest is lost to her own sobs, relief and some unknown fear that fate would rip them apart again, in some long tragedy.

[voidregnant]

♛     ╱    FATHER.   ❪ lost, fonder memories ❫

he does not correct her in his doubt. it seems like she was a child, told to turn the lights out followed by the insistence she was just about to. but seeing her will never be something to complain about. ❛ i don’t sleep so you can.  ❛

when nightmares return it is for stretches of time. a day will turn into a week, into a month. sleep is rare then. seeing dearest empress is the best medication, if judging by the tired smile on his face. ❛  do you need help ? i could sing you to sleep again.   ❛

          Her own presumptions flower at the mouth, but they wilt once he speaks and they seed themselves in her chest, making this warmth she has not felt in so long flow through her. The laugh that leaves her is a weak one, but it is a laugh nonetheless. Will there ever come a time where she can repay all that her parents have done for her, all they have sacrificed to ensure her happiness, the barest minimum of her safety? AN EMPRESS had died and did all she could to make DUNWALL a city worth loving, A ROYAL PROTECTOR risked life and limb to rescue her from threat after impending threat. Both loved her more, and more and more, every waking moment.

          A smile remains on her face, only ever in his presence.     ❝ You know I’m not a child anymore, CORVO. I’m... ❞     But the thought itself brings back fonder memories of THE HOUND PITS PUB, and happier years before that.     ❝ That... would be nice. You can sing and sit by my bedside and tell me stories, just like you and MOTHER used to. ❞

[ourfair]

          ———- I CAN FEEL A GREAT AGE ENDING.

[maskedsinmovedlmao]

THEY SURE ARE

[maskedsinmovedlmao]

I SURE DO!!!!

[maskedsinmovedlmao]

YOU BET I DO!!

[voidregnant]

me to @maskedsin at any given moment

[voidregnant]

Assassin-wise, I’m doing okay.

♛     ╱    CRY PLAYS DISHONORED.   ❪ accepting ❫

          The pit of vipers that everyone so politely calls THE IMPERIAL COURT will never get the opportunity to see her laugh. The luckiest they will probably ever get would be a huff or a roll of the eyes at some horrid joke one of the younger OVERSEERS might say, as if nobody can hear them. But here in presence more comfortable, quiet and lazy and serene, she lets out a small giggle under her breath, quiet enough that even she cannot hear it properly, but the smile remains.

          ❝ That’s a relief. ❞     She continues on with her FATHER’S jest, in some effort to see how long they can both sustain this exchange and who may end it on the most triumphant note.     ❝ I was just about to ask how you were doing ROYAL SPYMASTER-WISE too. ❞

[voidregnant]

Or, you're an assassin? The fuck are you assassinating? / / @beggard

♛     ╱    CRY PLAYS DISHONORED.   ❪ accepting ❫

          The more regal, disdainful part of her would think those words are nothing more than HYPOCRISY, but she has learned men’s hearts are not kind to her, to anyone in this world. Only a select few have the compassion to survive ; those who are unlucky are swallowed whole by cruelty in the world they have chosen to foolishly to trust. It had happened so unfortunately to HER MOTHER, to her— too much times that what could have been kindness in her is buried by layers and layers of cynical weariness.

          ❝ Isn’t it obvious? ❞     Eyes frown, and dexterous fingers unsheathe HER FATHER’S BLADE : an elegant weapon to die by, unlike the sword that had claimed AN EMPRESS’ LIFE more than fifteen years ago. She is no longer the helpless girl who ran away from danger ; it is time to let the world fear her.     ❝ And here I thought you were the man smart enough to murder AN EMPRESS, all those years ago. ❞

[voidregnant]

@nothingborn liked.

          ❝ Hey, MISTER MARTIN? I’ve got a question for you. ❞     Childlike curiosity leans forward, sitting precariously on the bar counter of THE HOUND PITS PUB’S bar that had seen better days in its time. CORVO was out doing whatever they had told him to do, some chore in which he would come back exhausted and fatigued. Perhaps they were telling him to fetch some far groceries over in THE DISTILLERY DISTRICT? It makes the days longer and therefore much more boring without his company ; she missed him during the days and even more so in the dead of the nights. So now there are more chances to learn about the men that he worked with, starting with the one seated near her on the bar stool.     ❝ Why do you think THE OUTSIDER is a bad person? Did he do something mean to you? ❞