#derelinquar

a t l a s t . 

Unending reverence, the blade embodied goes immediately to one knee before them, a hand rests with devotion upon his own breast and head bowed in deference.  Oh, to see them again-- that will which birthed his existence.  A fire in their heart.  A wish. 

   Yes.  To see them again.      HIS ONCE && FUTURE KING. 

It hadn’t taken long for him to have exhausted a number of options at the buffet tables, all things considered, and in actuality he wasn’t quite full yet, but the young man had refrained from taking yet more out of some niggling sense of obligation to those who had not yet eaten. Knowing that somewhere in the crowd his “sister” was there too had helped with that, somewhat.

So, instead, he sat, chewing on a toothpick, one arm over the back of the seat next to him, watching the dancers in the cleared space move back and forth with graceful motions. Feeling, rather than seeing, someone sit down near him along the line of chairs, he glanced over a single time and returned his gaze to the dance floor, keeping his behavior and tone carefully neutral to avoid a repeat of the last time.

Nah; I don’t think so. A scent can bring one home. My character is particularly fond of berries tart and lilac sweet. |D

Old fart

that’s old fart-san for u

@ofvaricty replied to your post: Trying to figure how old Cú Chulainn is headache...

never

   « キャスター » Their silence indicated that his statement had served a purpose other than what he had originally intended; fascinating. He simply observed her, waiting with patience not usually seen from the King. But it does pay off. For a single statement to elicit such words from an individual with majesty flowing deep in their veins is truly fascinating.

   So much so he couldn’t help himself.

  “So what is it you offer now?”

∱~In all his years, Arthur had to admit he’d never quite seen a woman such as the one he’d come across on this most curious of nights. He prided himself on being able to read people at a glance and studying this one had certainly been an intrigue unto its own. She possessed features that would certainly mark her as a beauty to most, him being no exception of course, and wore a curious choice of gear when entering the fray of battle. However, even when he first came across her, fighting beasts tooth and nail, she carried herself like a warrior–a knight truly–and all the grace that came with it.

Being as he was not as heartless as some might claim him to be, Arthur politely stepped in to assist her with her with her ordeal. Such was where they were now, the woman having sat back against an upturned carriage to catch her breath, sword still tight in her grip. Meanwhile, the Hunter gave the area another once over, checking corpses to make sure they were just that before refilling one or two of his blood vials.

It was at his return he caught an ear of her musing, quirking a brow as he glanced her way he found a look upon her face and in her eyes that was all too familiar. A thoughtful and curious hum left him, experienced far beyond her years were he to guess. He wondered if Reyven would have one day grown up to be like this woman before him…Better to leave such thoughts for rainy days.

“Sounds familiar,” he offered, arms crossed as he remained standing, looking off into the distance with her. A beat passed before he glanced down to her, a short chuckle escaping him as a smirk played upon his hidden lips. “I’d offer you a drink if I wasn’t convinced the people of Yharnam had tossed them all over the aqueduct when they figured out it wasn’t as intoxicating as it used to be. And you seem a bit high class for drinking blood straight so hey.”

Another inquisitive hum, “Name’s Arthur, by-the-by, pleasure to meet you,” he tipped his head and flicked the brim of his hat in greeting. “So what’s your poison then, hm?” He had plenty of guesses based on her words and appearance alone, but he always enjoyed the prospect of a good story.