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Returning home had felt different this time. It had him... on edge. Perhaps it was the pitch in his blood, calling to him, singing an accursed melody. Anxiously he sat, tending to his sword, wiping away at a stain only he could see. Dark blue eyes straining against the light. It's when Sif reacts to an approaching figure that he jolts upright, sword clanking against the marble floor.
The noise of the marble being scraped jolts him out of his straining reverie, eyes going wide as he witnesses the damage he had unintentionally done. Whispering a quick curse as he deflates. Finally turning his attention back to the handmaiden as he raises his cowl back over his head.
The clash of steel against metal has yet to make the handmaiden pause, though she does slow in her approach, grateful for the veils' obfuscation. It's easy to keep the lower half of her face passably neutral with the hint of warmth required of her station, after doing so for long enough at least. In the face of her surprise, and his as well, she keeps her posture perfect, her hands lightly curled together, pressed against her stomach as they should when not using them. A bow follows, in the wake of his attention, a brief but sincere nod to the large wolven companion to follow. "My apologies sire, I did not mean to intrude." Nothing about startling him, for no one needed to hear that aloud.
A faint, genuine, smile tugs at the edge of her lips. "My lady heard you had returned, yet not a maid had been by. May I tend to you, and your companion, my Lord?" The healing powers of the Princess of Sunlight were entrusted to her handmaidens, and even the hands of a half-deity were allowed to cast them through the Princess's vast grace. Even if he did not need healing, the sunlight was warm and calming, if that would suit his needs instead.
She turns to the great wolf at his side, offering her hand to see if she would be allowed even a step closer by both lord and beast. "If that would preferable to you, sire." While it was within the realm of her duties to offer her aid to the knights, she would not stay longer than allowed, nor would she push if she were to be turned away. Both remained out of her station to even think of doing.
It was a ritual. One he undertook with utmost care. Reaching beneath the pool of water to carefully pluck one of the noctum flowers. Hands that were ordinarily bloodstained were gentle, softly caressing the petals before setting it in the ceremonial bowl. His every movement measured as he draws out the essence, stopping for a moment to say a silent prayer before raising the bowl to his lips.
The pain agonizing but oh so familiar. How it stung, felt like a thousand knives stabbing him, until it became nothing. Nothing, just numbness... And then her. A soothing familiarity, the only friend he had ever had, his sister.
The cold marble of the spectral temple barely a sensation as she stares into the pool before her, clear and still, an amplifier of her visions. And now, a mirror in the physical realm, the one where her brother resides (the reminder a knife twisting just below her sternum). Her focus is a needlepoint, knife-edged as her brother comes into view through the still waters - her hand a hairs breath above it, careful to avoid breaking the stillness, the illusion that she could truly run her fingers through his hair as she once did. Connected through poison, she wonders silently if he can feel her so close, offering a fraction of comfort (selfishly) that might ease the effects of this ritual. If she'd had time, perhaps she could have found a way, a different focal point, one that didn't require such a sacrifice from her other half. Perhaps her attempt at comfort was a cruelty, but one she could not stop from reaching for him nonetheless.
A thousand words rest on the tip of her tongue, as always. 'I miss you', sits alongside 'How are you?', yet in the back of her throat, 'I'm sorry,' weighs the heaviest of them all. Is there any point in apologizing for an act that must be done, again and again, until their duty has been fulfilled? Instead, she sends him as much solace and comfort as she can, focusing on the light of the moon beside him as she takes shape, an apparition of blue starlight, always hovering a few inches off the ground, her hands as close to resting on his cheeks with the vast distance between them.
His armory shimmers faintly, immaterial until the moment they are needed, a gift, her way of keeping him safe even as he fights, a dangerous path, one she can only hope to safeguard. Her tongue is heavy as she settles on a soft, "Aphelios, I am with you." For a moment, the stone beneath doesn't echo with the silence of stars, but the softness of the water moving so slightly in the pool by her brothers side. "The moon shines brighter tonight, for you, Phel. You have done well, and the shadows are safer tonight for it."
Her foresight is stronger within the temple, visions clearer through her brothers sacrifice, and yet she still can not see all, can not guarantee that her brother can rest this night. And yet... "You can rest awhile longer. If there is danger before you, I will warn you. I promise." There would be danger, it was a risk she always saw, but for the moment, the light of the moon offered a moment of peace, where they could simply be, as twins, as they once were before the Solari attack. "I have found things left by our predecessors, including musical instruments. When next we are together, I hope to have learned how to play at least one of them."
New OCs~~ (4 of the 7, minor spoilers for Shadow of the Erdtree)
Phe - a bodyguard for a Leyndell noble who, after becoming Tarnished and chased off by their once employer, joined the church of Marika as a confessor. After all, what better to take revenge on those who scorned you when you have all their secrets. After their revenge was completed, they drifted like wind through the capital, picking off targets as they so chose, before eventually disappearing from even those employers.
Melle - A Redmane Knight who joined Radahn's forces before the Shattering, seeking valor for their own name, as well as for their liege lord. After the Shattering occured, they followed Radahn through his many battles until they could no longer. As he fell further into his mind, Melle stayed with the Redmanes', all devoted to their Lord, while wishing to end his misery. Thusly, when the tournament occured, Melle lended their sword to the fight.
Estrith, Dancer of Teeth - a Hornsent Dancer in the Lands Between, Estrith was once a temple dancer who accompanied the Dancing Lion during ceremonies and celebrations. With the invasion of Messmer's flame knights they turned their dancing to the deadlier side of the trade, now stalking knights and tarnished alike through shadows to give them all swift and beautiful deaths.
Astri - One of Melania's cleanrot knights and a survivor of the battle of Caelid, though not without her own rot spreading more aggressively, Astri was not able to regroup with other surviving Cleanrot Knights. Though they received word of Melania's return to the Haligtree, she decided against returning, and instead turned her attention towards Miquella, hoping that the kindly young Lord would be able to ease Malenia's condition. Urged by her duty to her lord, Astri traveled to the lands of shadow in the hopes of finding Miquella.
Making more Elden Ring OCs & turning this blog truly into a multi muse blog because Kayden walked herself into the Naughty OC Jail corner of my brain and hasn't come out for like 2 years (this bitch)
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Β βπππ Β πππππ Β πππ Β ππ Β πππππππ .β
β18+ Indie Elden Ring verse for Oc|RP SIDE BLOG; I follow from Derjaegermond || Sporadic activity || Private || Selective || Cross-over friendly || Witch Knight Helena || Exploring elements present in game, my own HCS, and some lore from my own work || Est; 4/7/22 || Written by; CatΒ || Please feel free to like or reblog if interested!
βA loving exploration of various themes and ideas-- the sacred and the profane ; necromancy ; the weight of grief ; death as rebirth ; hubris and its cost ; bringing back that which should never be returned ; to be as deified anathema ; to be as an unmeant God in a land that is not your own ; the monstrous feminine ; madness twisted into lucidity ; knighthood and the loss of honor ; death as the maiden and the witch ; cutting the threads of fate and challenging the forces that be.
Lastly... To be beloved by something you cannot see, cannot touch, and can never truly know.
beau taplin \Β nichole rae klein it hurts and iβm lonelyΒ \ richard siken dirty valentine \ haruki murakami norwegian wood (via @strykerlancerβ) \ via @priveparticulierβ \ david bottoms slow nights on the bass boat
Since I realized that, in all of her other Soulsborne related verses, she is generally always with dealing some sort of illness, not only is she torn between Nokstella & the Gods of the Golden Order, but she has also been, slowly, poisoned by the Scarlet Rot from the river within underground, and it is starting to affect her spine and neck especially.
Once a bodyguard for lords and ladies of the sunlight - sunless - realm; they grew up within a poor family, and in order to have fewer mouths to feed, were kicked out by their once parents to fend for their life on their own. Clawing and grasping for food, and often getting into fights to keep what scraps they could, they learned through harsh lessons, bruises and cuts across their body, and the scorn that came from living on the streets, how to move their body within a fight. Turning such skills into a living came with a cost, but nothing they thought outweighed the benefit of receiving food and shelter, not even the degradation or the eventual loss of their voice, of their belief they had a voice.
Their death is a mystery to themself, save for the memory and phantom ache of burning pain in their chest and left arm. When they awoke after the initial moment of this pain, they were in a pile of corpses, the sound of the gravedigger humming accompanied their desperate escape, nimble hands stealing what they could as they slipped into the night.
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