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@wraithxffate
self care is actually getting in fights with randoms in dark alleys
self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you. self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists. self care is the fear in your enemies eyes
— a plague tale: innocence + colors
YOU ARE ALLOWED TO USE YOUR CHARACTER’S POWER/STRENGTH/ABILITY ON MINE.
yes, this is me granting you PERMISSION to actually torment/hurt/control/beat up etc my muse. IF IT IS IN CHARACTER. but no, this is not me saying you can god-mod. there is a difference. So, feel free to inflict as much pain as you want and have fun rp-ing! (:
I look at you and see all the ways a soul can bruise, and I wish I could sink my hands into your flesh and light lanterns along your spine so you know that there’s nothing but light when I see you.
(via killedtheinnocentpeople)
My breast is cold as the clay; My breath is earthly strong. And if you kiss my cold, clay lips, Your days will not be long.
after the damage .
a sentence collection for the warriors , those who fight and those who destroy .
“ i… i did this —”
“ i did this !?”
“ n—no , it — it wasn’t supposed to be this way! ”
“ ( name ) !!! ”
“ t—that’s… the smile… i was hoping to see… ”
“ thank you… for everything… ”
“ they are dead, don’t you get it !? you killed them! ”
“ they are all dead because of you! ”
“ don’t you dare run away !”
“ (name) … ? ”
“ i—is he/she/they…? ”
“ o—oh god, oh god w—we gotta — get you somewhere— ”
“ g—get me ou—out of here… ”
“ i can’t — feel my l–leg… ”
“ you fought well… ”
“ you did what you could. ”
“ there was no way around this. ”
“ if i had… only come sooner, then m—maybe… ”
“ they are trapped because of you! ”
“ who sent you!? ”
“ who asked for your help!? ”
“ if you had come sooner then maybe — maybe they’d be alive! ”
“ it’s — it’s all your fault. ”
“ i want—ed to do… more… “
“ no — no, please — please don’t talk… rest… ”
“ p—please ! ( name ) hang on! ”
“ don’t you DARE slip away from me now! ”
“ come on, come o—on — please!! please!! ”
“ for the lo—ve of god, (name) ! ”
“ (name) it’s… useless… “
“ h—hey… c—can y—you hear me???”
“ shhh , i’ve got you… i’ve got you… ”
“ don’t let go. ”
“ i wish… i got to see him/her/them o—one more… time… ”
“ did i… s—sav… save him/her/them… ? ”
“ hey n—now… wh—why are you crying… ? ”
“ th…ank you f… for believing in me, (name)… ”
“ this is… all… i could e—ever ask for… ”
“ i did… what i had to do… ”
“ ke—ep living on… f–for me…? ”
“ goodbye, (name)…”
“ (name), i — ”
Light thinks it travels faster than anything, but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it. “
Terry Pratchett (via wordsnquotes)
Think well Do take your time Because your soul Will be mine the day you die
"Hello again, gambler." Fiddlesticks emerged from the shadows, his wooden legs thumping against the cracked stone tiles beneath him. "I have heard tales of your exploits since we last met..." (reapersscarecrow)
Fate observed the smoking, pale green card flipping between his fingers for another moment (his newest acquisition) before it disappeared from his grasp, presumably back with the others on the gambler’s belt. A short sort of chuckle escaped his lips as he turned his head in the direction of the scarecrow.
“Harbinger,” he said with a nod in greeting. “I should hope you’ve heard, especially in Bilgewater. It would seem people haven’t heard what typically happens after a deal with me is finished… or they’re to concerned with their wealth to care about the fact that their souls end up in MY possession~”
@reapersscarecrow
Fiddlesticks burst into laughter. “No, our god is not my master… He already has another to serve him: the spider known as Elise. Perhaps you have heard of her?“ A crow perched upon a nearby tree, watching Fate intently with glowing green eyes.
“But in the end, we all serve the master… Only I can hear his voice, however. It is the gift of the Harbinger; my privilege to carry out his whim.” The scarecrow seemed to lose himself in his own speech for a moment, before snapping out of it. “Ah, but enough about that. It is time you learned more of our kings, Twisted Fate.”
“Elise? I’ve not heard much, but I’ve heard of her.” he shrugged, the armor on his right arm giving a hollow-sounding rattle.
Fate was a patient man. He didn’t necessarily mind the Harbinger’s speeches and found them to be mostly insightful. The scarecrow had a surprising way with words that never made talking to him a dull experience.
“I’m all ears, my friend,” he nodded, ignoring the crow as best he could. He’d found that ignoring the creatures had been getting easier, but he assumed that was because he was simply getting used to them.
The Summoning of Fate (II)
True to their deal, Twisted Fate watched impassively as the man won hand after hand at whatever gambling den he saw fit to visit. He didn’t even bother hiding the grin as he robbed his opponents blind, seeming to take delight in the fact that he was using a supernatural entity to cheat, something he believed they could do nothing about…
The poor man seemed to be under the delusion that Fate’s “services” included protection from whatever consequences might befall him because of their little “trick”.
Keep reading
The Summoning of Fate (I)
Any city in the world had its share of desperate people. Those willing to risk so much for the sake of another try, just one more try… Bilgewater, among others, was rife with people willing to take extreme measures to achieve goals that had crept into their minds… And rumor had been spreading of one who could help you succeed where chances needed to be taken to win– or regain– a fortune.
Keep reading
Think well Do take your time Because your soul Will be mine the day you die
@impavid-wanderer
The wraith of greed had gotten used to the sights and sounds of the Isles; the all-encompassing Mist, the screams of the weaker ghosts, the near-constant presence of at least two of the Harbinger’s crows. At first he’d simply avoided the other undead (save for the scarecrow), but through boredom and curiosity, he’d found that watching them from afar proved to be most entertaining indeed.
The squabble he’d been observing had broken up far too quickly, leaving the gambler’s gaze to wander, only to fall on another spirit not too far off. A woman? Most of the ghosts seemed vague enough in form that one couldn’t usually tell...
“You may be dead... but you don’t seem quite like the others.” he finally murmured, letting the wind carry his voice to her. “Just what makes you so special, little lady?”
"Hello again, gambler." Fiddlesticks emerged from the shadows, his wooden legs thumping against the cracked stone tiles beneath him. "I have heard tales of your exploits since we last met..." (reapersscarecrow)
Fate observed the smoking, pale green card flipping between his fingers for another moment (his newest acquisition) before it disappeared from his grasp, presumably back with the others on the gambler’s belt. A short sort of chuckle escaped his lips as he turned his head in the direction of the scarecrow.
“Harbinger,” he said with a nod in greeting. “I should hope you’ve heard, especially in Bilgewater. It would seem people haven’t heard what typically happens after a deal with me is finished… or they’re to concerned with their wealth to care about the fact that their souls end up in MY possession~”
@reapersscarecrow
Fiddlesticks peers at Twisted Fate. He had more memories of his life than most… Even the Harbinger could only really remember the day he’d died, and everything before that was a blank. Oh well. Not like it mattered much, regardless.
“So tell me…” The topic changed suddenly. “Have you met the rulers of the Isles? Our kings and our god… Doubtless, the former will want to meet you. Our god, however… You would be wise to avoid.”
Yes, Fate could remember a lot from his living days. But even as time passed, his memories, starting with the smaller, more insignificant ones, were beginning to fade from his mind. His previous life was over after all; it didn’t matter anymore. Before long, he likely wouldn’t even remember Graves, or being from Bilgewater, or even his early years on the Serpentine. All that would remain was the time he spent on the Shadow Isles.
The wraith shook his head.
“Nah. I remember you mentionin’ rulers and a god when I first arrived, but I haven’t met any of ‘em. I’d assumed the master you mentioned was the god of the Isles…”
"Hello again, gambler." Fiddlesticks emerged from the shadows, his wooden legs thumping against the cracked stone tiles beneath him. "I have heard tales of your exploits since we last met..." (reapersscarecrow)
Fate observed the smoking, pale green card flipping between his fingers for another moment (his newest acquisition) before it disappeared from his grasp, presumably back with the others on the gambler’s belt. A short sort of chuckle escaped his lips as he turned his head in the direction of the scarecrow.
“Harbinger,” he said with a nod in greeting. “I should hope you’ve heard, especially in Bilgewater. It would seem people haven’t heard what typically happens after a deal with me is finished… or they’re to concerned with their wealth to care about the fact that their souls end up in MY possession~”
@reapersscarecrow
“You’ve not yet heard the Deathsinger’s dirge?” Fiddlesticks tilted his head. “I MUST arrange a meeting, then. The music of the living pales in comparison, even if they cannot truly appreciate his work while their hearts still beat…” In truth, the Harbinger’s thoughts on Karthus were mixed, but at the very least, the songs of the dead he directed were phenomenal…
“Home.” Fiddlesticks spoke the word quite suddenly. “This is your home, Twisted Fate; it is everyone’s home, whether they realize it or not. An eternity in the Mist is the only fate that awaits us all… But I’m sure you do not need to hear my speeches.”
Home. The word brought an unexpected... twinge to the dead man’s mind.
How long had it been since he was able to really call any place that? After the Serpentine, the closest he ever got was Bilgewater...
But if the Shadow Isles were where everyone was meant to go anyway, were those places of his living days ever really home to him? It didn’t feel like it, not anymore. It seemed death had an odd way of... making everything clearer...
“Hmm. Home sounds about right from what I’ve come to see.” he finally said, his lips quirking upwards in a slight smile. “Figures I had to die to find it~”
"Hello again, gambler." Fiddlesticks emerged from the shadows, his wooden legs thumping against the cracked stone tiles beneath him. "I have heard tales of your exploits since we last met..." (reapersscarecrow)
Fate observed the smoking, pale green card flipping between his fingers for another moment (his newest acquisition) before it disappeared from his grasp, presumably back with the others on the gambler’s belt. A short sort of chuckle escaped his lips as he turned his head in the direction of the scarecrow.
“Harbinger,” he said with a nod in greeting. “I should hope you’ve heard, especially in Bilgewater. It would seem people haven’t heard what typically happens after a deal with me is finished… or they’re to concerned with their wealth to care about the fact that their souls end up in MY possession~”
@reapersscarecrow
The scarecrow nodded. “It is clear to me now why the Mist sought you… As Kalista embodies vengeance, and I embody despair, you embody greed.” A smile played on the Harbinger’s sewn-up ‘lips.’ “Mortals are willing to sacrifice so much to gain so little… You have done well, Twisted Fate.”
Fiddlesticks moved a bit closer. “You are then first in a long time to be reborn as such a powerful undead; the last, I do believe, was Karthus. Tell me: what do you make of the Shadow Isles?”
An embodiment of greed? The thought brought a teeth-baring grin to his face. Greed could have been considered something he was MORE than guilty of in life... and in death here he was, still taking advantage of the boundless greed of the living, and cheating them of so much more than their gold.
“Karthus, huh? Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of actually meeting him yet.” he hummed. “As for the Shadow Isles... It’s a place I would have avoided at all costs just a short while ago. Now?”
He shrugged.
“Not sure I’d quite call it comforting... but what else do you call somethin’ that’s such a welcome sight to return to?”
"Hello again, gambler." Fiddlesticks emerged from the shadows, his wooden legs thumping against the cracked stone tiles beneath him. "I have heard tales of your exploits since we last met..." (reapersscarecrow)
Fate observed the smoking, pale green card flipping between his fingers for another moment (his newest acquisition) before it disappeared from his grasp, presumably back with the others on the gambler’s belt. A short sort of chuckle escaped his lips as he turned his head in the direction of the scarecrow.
“Harbinger,” he said with a nod in greeting. “I should hope you’ve heard, especially in Bilgewater. It would seem people haven’t heard what typically happens after a deal with me is finished… or they’re to concerned with their wealth to care about the fact that their souls end up in MY possession~”
@reapersscarecrow
