#finalsorrow

julius plays dead

Julius has some good news!

@finalsorrow

My muse is a vampire, but has been locked up to keep them from causing anyone harm. Tell me in my inbox if your muse would free them, torment them, or be the one to have put them there.

A cacophonous symphony of hissing, snarling, and growling can be heard coming from the makeshift ‘prison’, the abrupt onset and horrible sensation of the craving for crimson sustenance overwhelming any semblance of logic and sense. Lengthy raven locks flew behind the newly formed sanguivore as she made several futile endeavors to liberate herself from her present incarcerated state. 

“Mr. Belmont, this method of restraint goes well beyond being cruel and unusual punishment! I will not be contained as if I were some sort of .... sort of mindless monster devoid of all higher thought and fueled solely by brutish and base ravenous instincts! This is positively ludicrous!” But for all the livid sorceress’s ravings and rantings, the fact that each mini rant and tirade concluded with a distorted, snarled voice certainly didn’t help her case in the slightest. Nor did the malevolent gleam of that pair of newly elongated, pearlescent canines that had only served to complement and accentuate the irate expressions that had twisted her countenance throughout the aforementioned ravings. 

@finalsorrow​ said: "Leon," He'd been thinking before he spoke, staring off and stroking his beard. If one squinted, they'd see his eyes became glossier as he spoke, but his voice never wavered. "I don't feel like I'm a person, sometimes, and I haven't admitted that until now. I do a good job of fooling myself otherwise..." He wasn't going to say it outright, but the underlying message under his monotone voice and lack of eye contact was that being a Belmont made him inhuman. 

                “...” The words settle in his heart like cold, sharp fangs of glass, pierce their way into his throat that suddenly feels tight, knot-like, forcing an uneasy swallow. Such a pain it is, not unlike sorrow and so very close to dread that he tries to hide away from his pitying eyes as they look his last son round and through. Leon is silent for a time, hunting for words through all feeling of sadness and quiet guilt that surges lightning-hot in his blood--he feels almost cruel for smiling, however sad the expression is on his gentle face. “I remember a time I felt more pawn than man, and more a curse than I was a father. As a man of the church, I was always little but a dancer on the strings of something greater than myself, ruined with the blood of others. As a shield for mankind against monsters, I was merely the beginning of a burden for centuries of lives that would follow in my footsteps--and if I had chosen to be silent in my pain, promised nothing to my beloved or to mankind. Well. I would be guilty. A coward. Forgotten and remembered for nothing, and mankind might long ago have died to the wrath of the man I failed to either stop or save. I know that I would somehow be unhappy, no matter my choice. I knew my children would some day be unhappy too. I wish I could have began a happier legacy for each of you...”

                  He sighs. The sound is high, grieving, but resolute no less when the tune fashions into words instead as Leon rises from his seat at the window and takes careful strides toward his troubled descendant. A sternness hardens his still-kind eyes when he stops just breaths away, sun-bright head bowed just so as his voice warbles slowly on. “But I was--am still nothing but flesh and blood. You, Julius, are nothing but flesh and blood. We are human, whatever our trials and whatever our purpose, whatever our gifts or our curses if you would sooner think of them that way; we are not the monsters we keep out of the hearts and homes of others. We are more than only soulless, unthinking blades at the throat of all things wicked. We are more than our duty. You are...more than only the name I gave to you. More than me and my suffering, or that of any Belmont before you. More than your own.”

@finalsorrow​ asked;;       💬

Send 💬  for me to make you a starter with a random line of dialogue from this generator. { accepting }

         He had heard the noise making for a short while. Some disturbance or other that would not be out of the norm if it were a different time of year. There were nothing on the security footage, nor had any alarms been tricked. Though exhausted, the self assurance that it were only an animal of some kind remained on his mind, and since Terrence were not only a man of little violence, he were a man of rescue and rehabilitation, so the thought of grabbing his rifle did not even cross his mind. Only armed with a weighted, night-piercing flashlight and his kit for aiding the occasionally caught wild things, Terrence went for inspection. The less glamorous duties of home ownership when one is worn out, he only hoped it had not been something serious. Then again, the birds were making some terrible racket. Again, unusual, but nothing could have prepared him for what became clearer and clearer to his eyes -           A person.           A person... eating a raven. Raw.

          The initial, shocked laughter were only half forced. It had to be fake. It looked fake. But how did someone slip past cameras unseen? And such a large man at that?           The gears moved slow. Slower than anyone would ever think, when not in a situation that would demand it. But the innards of the bird and the blood - it began to make sense. It made sense and did not make sense, and the vague concept of some poor-taste prank became a fleeting thought the moment he moved. The moment he spoke.            He was approaching.