#imposingclaymore

@imposingclaymore " I watch you watching me watching back. "

The Entity had noticed him watching her as she observed him in the trail, it would be hard not to. It was curious that he did so while most tended to avoid her. "Have you found anything interesting by watching me?" She didn't think there was anything that he could glean from his observations but perhaps she was wrong.

" enough. " (dwight attempting to negotiate for mercy mayhaps? 👀)

Send me a ‘★’ if you actually like my blog — accepting

@imposingclaymore: ★★★★★★★

a comprehensive list of scenarios

The cries of the attackers could be heard as they were engulfed in vines, wrapping around their bodies as if they were to be mummified. Their weapons had been dropped on the ground, swords traced with poison to inflict lasting damage, a clear threat on the man’s life, one that Dwight wouldn’t stand for. And all Dwight wanted to do today was enjoy a peaceful walk in the nearby woods, filled with creatures such as sprites and fae. He thought it was important to create lasting friendships with them, to promote peace and civility among them.

It was also the only other place that Dwight could get some peace from Castle life.

Dwight was so focused on rendering the assassins immobile that he didn’t realize that another one was stalking the trees, watching as his comrades had been captured. But he would succeeded in where they had failed. Emerging from the trees, sword ready to strike down the Royal, it felt as time had slowed down, Dwight frozen as he couldn’t force himself to act. The sword was getting closer and closer, until it didn’t.

The assassin was roughly grabbed by his Knight, an armed snakes around their throat. The assassin’s neck is snapped with such ease you could akin it to cracking a walnut. It happened with little effect and yet so much force, nearly snapping their head the whole way around, a brutal execution. The Knight tosses the assassin away, throwing the corpse as if it were garbage, as it were nothing. The show of violence before his very eyes causes Dwight to gasp, horrified and nearly losing his focus on keeping the other assassin’s restrained.

♧ : [sender] teaches [receiver] one of their perks.

@imposingclaymore  ( 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 )

send me a 🔪 to hold a knife to the entity's throat

@imposingclaymore: 🔪 ( but it's the claymore >:) )

The Claymore was held aloft, the tip digging into the Entity's throat. Perhaps she had pushed just a little too much this time and Tarhos had decided that threatening her was the best course of action. "Do you really think that's going to get you anywhere?" Her eyes narrowed to slits.

" Like when the dream no longer needs its dreamer. "

like  when  a  dream  no  longer  needs  its  dreamer.  a  phrase  that,  at  first,  vittorio  didn’t  quite  catch,  a  phrase  that  seemed  out  of  nowhere  &  all  at  once.  he  sits  before  old  friend  --  fleeting  of  once  was  --  with  an  ale.  who  knows  how  long  the  ale  had  been  there,  in  the  broken  &  ruined  borgo  left  with  little  remains.  it’s  the  CLOSEST  to  home  that  he  has  --  a  foreign  thing  in  a  world  where  everyone  seems  so  acquainted  --  &  despite  old  friend  becoming  the  enemy  in  a  place  like  this,  tarhos,  too,  was  a  home.

he  thinks  on  the  phrase  with  a  hum,  quiet  as  ever.  he  looks  down  into  the  ale,  at  it’s  bitter  hue.  like  when  the  dream  no  longer  needs  its  dreamer.  it’s  metaphoric,  it’s  more  deep  than  what  he’d  expect  out  of  tarhos.  not  that  it  isn’t  something  tarhos  would  say,  because  it  is,  but  because  looking  back  in  the  past  --  WAS  THIS  REALLY  THAT  FAR  OFF? 

vittorio’s  shoulder  rises  &  falls.  he  dares  to  look  up,  to  face  the  very  man  who  had  once  protected  him,  aided  him.  the  very  man  that  betrayed  him,  imprisoned  him,  left him  to  rot  in  a  dungeon  of  rats  &  maggots.  his  lips  purse  thin  --  but  the  corners  of  his  lips  rise.  a  smile.  nothing  that  is  out  of  character  for  someone  like  him.  SOMEONE  WHO,  IN  THE  FACE  OF  DEATH,  REMAINS  KIND.  

❛  we’re  in  a  living  hell,  tarhos,  ❜  for  he  will  always  speak  his  name,  embrace  him  by  that  human  name,  even  if  it  tastes  like  poison,  like  a  bitter  salt  on  the  mouth,  like  the  iron  of  blood  --  THE  KNIGHT  seemed  insulting,  of  all.  vittorio  knows  tarhos.  not  the  moniker  given  to  him  blindly.   

❛ it’s  a  nightmare.  not  a  dream.  unless  it  is  everything  you  could  have  wanted?  ❜  a  pause,  he  begs  the  question.  for  was  it  truly  a  dream?  a  spectacle  of  hope  &  goodness  that  keeps  someone  yearning  &  longing?  no.  that’s  TOO  kind,  TOO  unrealistic.  even  for  a  warlord  like  @imposingclaymore​.  eyes  that  squint,  he  brings  the  ale  to  his  mouth,  downing  it  with  a  quiet  hiss  &  grimace.  bitter.  he  was  always  more  of  a  wine  person,  anyways.  his  nose  curls,  only  a  little,  not  in  anything  too  in  particular.