𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑗𝑎𝑑𝑒

#dreadspawn.     i know nothing besides this: i must resist the dark urge, lest it consume my mind. i must discover who i was, and what happened to me ─ before my twitching knife-hand writes a tragedy in blood … time for bitter business the light would fear to shine on.

 the stars shine for me  ── 1268dr, burntpa1ace, oathkyrie.

activity notice !!

  info. ╱ cr. ╱ grand design below.

sorry for the late reply, but ty for sending <3 ! ╱ la1cized.

  only an hour and a half was taken. under this dark, gentle night - goblins' song mixes with the tranquil chirps and trills of insects, hiding beneath the shade of verdant grass and leaves of humble bushes, that shift and shudder at the smallest brush of movement. a sliver of time was spent entangled in the faded violet arms of the goblin's sole surviving commander - lit by only the moon's silver glow, and distant torchlight. their time was fiery yet fleeting. like the stronghold that housed both druids and tieflings alike, long since fallen. bested by betrayal and brute force - undone by the tenderness of desperation and misplaced trust. poor horned fools, believing the hand that extended to them belonged to a benevolent stranger, moved by their plight. such unfortunate, miserable souls - captivated like moths to a lantern's flames. soft-bellied in their final heartbeats of terror.

  lives dragged into the bloody pits of death - for the sole purpose of feeding the bottomless hunger that lived inside him. felix only offers mercy for one reason: benefit. and even that is a rented room on borrowed time; it's only a matter of time before one is squeezed like fruit, down to their last drops of usefulness. all that would be left to give the deathbringer are entrails, to be spilled from gutted bodies.

  felix sits silent in an almost meditative state, like the marrow of his mind were too loud to let him move. stony features wear the calm of a man listening to a distant hymn, shrouded in shadows and ghostly chills - too obscured to know where they come from. even still, he knows his cravings. and they throb beneath his ribs, for something more. though minthara's blood does not stain his hands physically tonight, breaking her neck had only been the start of his chaos. his heart beats within its cage, to recall the fracture of bone that cracked when he dislocated her neck. beautiful creature as she was, tantalized by carnal promises, and a false facade of submission, the temptation of taming one whose devotions lie outside the reaches of lust or allyship. or the absolute itself. it was her downfall. her lovely corpse, eclipses every previous vision he had of her nude, sultry form on top of him. now his thoughts fill with what he can still take, what is left to be ruined - more, more, more! goblins litter their once quiet campsite, like an infestation shitted from the furthest arsehole of the hells, festering by the stench-filled dozens in celebration. clueless of the humiliating fatality that befell their leader. they sing their drunken song, shoulder to shoulder as the air is thick with smoked meat of the fallen. drinks spill, stubby legs stumbling about in the dirt, petty squabbles among the mead. they know not of what grows in their so-called ally - know nothing of the gentle hand of slaughter, waiting to turn their insides, out.

  egleriel, taken by the drunken waltz of the goblin's wine, offers a bottle to share. in that very same, fleeting breath, felix's striking features appear to soften as he takes it from her grasp. there's a tremble in his ruby irises, barely noticeable from behind the dark of his mostly blonde fringe. they tremble in their sockets as he revels in the thought of his insidious plan being nearly half complete - festivities continue to reign in the twilight. most are too drunk to read the threat in his growing grin - brows tender upon his forehead, smile seemingly boyish upon his handsome face. malevolent in the reason behind it.

  with his empty hand he reaches forward, touch eerily soft as slender, calloused fingers clasp her wrist, drawing her closer to him. he speaks to her like a friend with a secret, such an obscene contrast to the brutality he was moments away from committing, like a breath held too long. surely she, too, will indulge with him? this party was too dull for his wretched tastes.

“ orin's smile was the last thing you saw, her bright blade glinting as she chiselled into your skull. her reckless digging left your mind shattered. she robbed you of your bloody birthright, reduced you to nothing. nothing but pure hate, and now it burns, 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆. ” act iii.    ⸻   the brink of no return.