ℑ𝔫 𝔰𝔬𝔦𝔩 𝔴𝔢 𝔱𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

This blog is  ONLY  made for those who are  over the age of eighteen, no minors  will be permitted to take part. Mature Content inside. Dead Dove : Do Not Eat.  Devouring flesh, drinking blood, other visceral gore depictions and real life horrors ( racism , colonization ). These subjects will be present on this blog; I must stress, please do not follow if you are not comfortable with these topics. I feel I must remind some, that I do not condone the actions of this character written; his actions do not reflect the writer of this blog. He is an antagonist, and villain to some --though tragic, but still a monster in most light. Yes he is a powerful and ancient entity. This does not mean he goes without weaknesses that can nearly render him powerless and weaken him enough, reducing him less than yer average man.

Remmick's more monstrous attributes. This being an official concept -- it is what we could've gotten as an end result. From three toed talons, to elongated limbs and fingers . He held promise to be more bat-like; with wing furled at the underside of an arm. Or his wonky arse ears, that I am runnin with, is due to time worn injury. With that being said. Remmick's ear in particular was split down it's spine by none other than silver, around the medieval era, causin the regenerative process to heal all wrong. This shines through what glamour he mends as well. For a visible scar discolours a great deal of the underside cusp, stretching across outside lobe into the inner ear canal. Not fresh but aged. I'll add more to this of course.

A reminder that Remmick is far from straight. In fact, he is a crooked ring thrice crossed -- and with the way historically theorized the Druids were. It would be one hundred percent canon. Pansexually polyamory within the most deadliest game. He don' bite hard, now. C'mon , darlin. Take a gamble.

His brow pressed amid determination whilst he called out to the strange scent. Trying to vert his gaze as much he could muster off it's partially blind position his head was obstructed to be in. The collar and lock union tethering him to surrounding chain. Which obscured his point of view any further than a marginal lift. " I ain't done no wrong, they gon' an nabbed tha wrong man -- please, " he ushered in convincing distress. Pain layered it's cadence. Time was of the essence whilst morning light threatened it's delivered misery along indicative dew and atmospheric shift. " Help a feller out, will y'ah ? Unbind me , I ain't got tha strength -- mercy, please ! " Urgency had risen such pleas from the temperature spike in early prime spiraling him into mild panic. " I'll fr'ever be n' yer debt ! I'll offer y'ah coin ! " Sold exclaim barely reached above a whimpering catch. " 'Ave plenty o'it -- anyt'in ye want ! Jus' help me .. " Twisting tongue slithered onto foreign lilt absentmindedly with cost over the propinquity inner turmoil folded.

A time where forests thrived, predators were vast and diverse -- wolves interwoven in correlated balance and tipped fear. Ireland 455 AD : the creature eventually known as Remmick , was once known as Cian O'Rinn. A young filí amongst a respectable Druidic family. A young man who thrived amidst his abilities to his people. With second sight in accordance to the nature bound along ancestral lines reaching as far back to The Tuatha Dé Danann. A time where the fiery star gave prosperity rather than dread -- a human memory. [ This verse is set for a human Remmick and may be expansive to the Unseen world and the creatures ( Fae and Fae-like ) that inhabit within it. It may also be good to note that this is a time in Ireland when English was not Éire's primary language. I may or may not incorporate a few Gaeilge verses here and there. But because most of the mutuals do not speak it, I will provide English, but it will be established that he is speaking to them in his mother's tongue.. ]