ARCHIVED.

temptation is a dangerous thing normally , however this is all consuming ; denying felt like a sin . deadlier than the ones he has enacted . his arm moves before his mind can think , mind flooded with whisperings . pick it up . pick it up . pick it up . suffocating in these mere moments between unfilled hand & the scythe's handle comes to a halt in the form of a shuddering breath . relief . it feels like him , is the first thought that was finally his own , the next was the overwhelming desire to never let it go . ❛ thresh , ❜ he's not sure how he spoke the dark star's name , it was getting harder to process . logic & desire at war . ❛ thresh , ❜ this time it was definitely demanding , for him to say anything . any type of grounding . ❛ what - . ❜

The moment flesh meets the flesh that beats — the hilt of forbidden blades — the creation thrums, pulsates like a comforting heartbeat in the wielder's palm. It sings its own unique song, slipping deep within Yasuo's body as the dark star is let in.

Thresh, Thresh. Yesssss.....

The being's name is like honey on his lips, music to the dark star's ears. This one had promise. He had chosen perfectly.

"What I ask is but a mere trifle, a mere blink in time eternal. But for any inconvenience, I bestow a piece of myself upon you. I — my power — is yours to wield. You are already a swordsman of great renown and capability. All I wish is to make use of your talent, to help you cultivate a world beyond ruin."

Thresh receeds into the nothingness for the briefest of moments, clawed hands dancing in an artful display of blues and purples as something all together new and beautiful forms between his palms. A coalescence of starlight and darkness twists in the orb he reveals — a portal, one in which he brings closer to Yasuo.

"Allow me to show you more," he purrs. He does not give Yasuo much of a choice ( not that he would want to deny him, now ), ushering him through.

The sight that Yasuo is beholden to is like nothing he's ever seen, as if the space around him betrays all logic and reason — his eyes and mind betraying him, believing one thing, witnessing the next, both ever-shifting and reality itself bending with each attempt at comprehension. But at the same time it does not drive him mad, no, it allows him to witness it in each multifaceted form he experiences. As if this new place, this new reality, whispers; see me. see me. feel me. 

It's an array of purple hues, lights almost too much but also not enough, fragments of glass or even flesh dancing through the air. Foliage and trees ( or rocks and mountains, who can tell? ) litter the terrain. The ground itself is soft and gentle with each step, yet something stirs beneath like stone yet airate like grass. It's comforting yet disconcerting all in one. A beautiful yet maddening landscape.

The dark star manifests before his most welcome visitor, a simple man marred in the same horrors he is partial to present himself with, all teeth and tendrils and grins. He takes Yasuo's hand, guiding him through the thick brush and warbling sound. It feels like an eternity but also mere moments as they walk, before coming to a halt before a most illustrious sight — at the center of the precipice lies an engorged amalgamation of flesh and light, a heart — the heart of the dark star.

It's terrifying. To be in the mere presence of it is maddening, encouraging destruction of it and everything inbetween and beyond itself. But temptation lingers there, like peace and tranquility existing within a whispered promise, of hands held, of loves shared. Entropy. Chaos.

Thresh takes Yasuo's hand without a word, for this entire time he had already been speaking. Through flesh, through visions, through this place. He guides Yasuo's hand up and forward, encouraging him to reach through that heavy dusk the rest of the way, unto the epicenter.

what has he gotten himself into ?

sitting in the center of the expansive palm , skepticism doesn't leave him ; unable to truly settle . though even in his predicament, in a sense , he understands thresh's point of view but he disagrees . at the end of his own life span , his remains would drift & create something else . whether that be a star , a planet , a new life form . stars have proven such , to die & create something else , hence why supernovas are not to be seen as death , but creation .

the dark star's future actions interrupt this train of thought . several emotions flicker across a sparkled visage , why must thresh treat him like this ? why not met with crossing of weapons ? why must he constantly be reminded of their size comparison , how nice thresh's voice sounds or that damned pet name ? surely on purpose . especially said like that . . .

compliments , pet names , handled firm but tender . It's confusing . it's annoying . it's hard to ignore . a glance given to his hand resting on thresh's , something he doesn't remove .

❛ you say that i am capable of much more , that i'm . . . all that you say i am . what am i that isn't something that you do not have already ? i have seen some of your followers , or whatever you see them as , far more devoted than i would be , do much more for the sake of you . you call me starlight , say i have potential for greater , for what ? so i can be like them ? ❜

distaste is apparent in his very last words , a soldier for the void so he can what ? speed up the process of beginnings even though they're currently happening as they sit here & talk ?

❛ i've seen destruction as it should be , i have seen stars at their end create universes . i have seen particles from a universe life's end create millions species . to constantly create more , it's the unbreakable circle . what do you gain from a clean slate if it happens constantly ? ❜

A  twist  of  elegance —  Thresh's  palm  pointing  skywards,  and  within  the  epicenter,  a  glowing  void.  From  his  flesh  rises  an  illuminous  blade,  a  carver  of  flesh,  a  seeker  of  life  and  death,  a  destroyer,  a  creator.  The  weapon —  the  tool,  an  artists  swathing  brush —  rises  to  meet  Yasuo,  craving  his  touch.  It  calls  out  to  him,  like  a  wicked,  forbidden  temptation  of  all  hopes  and  dreams  and  promises  left  incomplete.

"I  made  myself  into  a  weapon  so  that  you  might  transcend  your  hate.  Even  then  I  knew  our  slaughter  would  be  indescriminate,  but  the  scythe  is  not  a  killing  thing  to  sully  so  dispassionately.  It  is  an  instrument  of  cultivation.  Growth.  Even  love.  For  that  love,  worlds  bloomed  beneath  me,  cities  burned  at  the  end  of  my  tongue.  That  is  the  way  of  scythes.  We  cut  only  what  we  must  so  that  new  life  may  flourish."

@oblivisms : ❛ You are coming down with me, hand in unloveable hand. ❜

         many   would   equate   such   feeling   that   festered   within   the  Nemesis    to   that   of   peering   upon   someone   famous   ,   where   their   heart   flutters   with   anticipation   or   their   head   feels   with   numerous   thoughts   of   just   how   to   approach   them.   and   yet   ,   she   was   able   to   experience   such   at   a   continuous   rate.   each   encounter   left   a   pep   upon   her   step   ,   for   dark   stained   tiers   to  remain    ever   turned   up   ,   for   a   surge   of   excitement   to   dance   upon   her   flesh.   not   many   would   understand   her   ,   nor   would   they   look   upon   her   views   and   morals   with   eyes   of   interest   ,   yet  he    was   one   that   held   worlds   within   his   palms   with   any   means   he   desired   to  crush    them.   it   was   far   more   than   she   could   do   ,   so   of   course   she   found   herself   in   high   spirits   when   gaze   locked   upon   anothers.

         still   ,   his   words   leave   bemusement   to   hum   from   the  Nemesis.    even   gifted   the   slight   roll   of   oddity   eyes.   heels   click   lightly   as   she   alters   her   weight   from   side   to   side.   she   wasnt    blind    to   the   shroud   of   power   that   resided   within   another  (   she   would   never   admit   to   the   jealousy   that   came   along   with   it )    but   still   would   she  revel    in   such   when   it   played   in   her   favor.

                    ❛   if   you   are   trying   to   romance   me   ,   then   it   is   working   ,   o'    Harbinger.    ❜         playful   ,   even    teasing    is   her   tone.   amidst   her   time   within   this   world   ,   she   kept   track   and   notes   on   all   beings   that   were   portrayed   with  negativity    in   the   eyes   of   others.   this   one   just   happened   to   be   something   far   more  enticing    to  Morgana    than   others.  how   lucky   of   her.

                    ❛   i   think   my   hand   is   quite   loveable.   yours   ,   maybe   not   ,   but   we   can   see   if   thats   true.   ❜         her   own   out   stretches   with   palm   facing   upward   ,   fingers   giving   the   slightest   of   wiggle   as   if   to  prompt    him   to   take   it.   expressionism   read   light   of  impish    and   coy   ,   a   complimentary   look   to   the   deviousness   that   resided   within   ones   sights.

                    ❛   if   i   go   down   ,   you   come   with   me.   i   like   my   odds.   ❜

         having   given   into   her  desires    and   whims   was   a   feat   that   often   was   looked   over   by   others   ,   for   it   was   simply   something   that   came   about   naturally.   but   not   for   the  Aspect.    she   had   seen   the   vibrancy   of   unspeakable   horrors   latch   upon   the   form   that   lingered   ever   so   close   ,   the   truth   of   being   that   leeched   its   energy   for  corruption    like   a   fine   tuned   instrument   ,   with   tales   of   manipulation   laced   into   words   spoken   so   eloquently   onto   her   ears.   and   she   was   a  fool.    she   experienced   those   needs   ,   and   even   with   eyes   that   could   see   or   sense   the   terror   wrought   down   through   ones   aura   ,   she   succumbed   to   his   hands   like  putty.