#ofsoulsborne

@ofsoulsborne | rp sentence starters taken from shinji moon’s work , the anatomy of being

HOW MANY TIMES has this night repeated? For her, for Yarnham, for the prior cities touched by the Great Ones’ blessing? How many CHILDREN had been sought, born, and lost for the gods that desired them so? How far back did the echoes of blood truly stretch?

It is unfathomable. Incalculable to her feeble MORTAL mind. And yet, somewhat dry in tone, she speaks anyway: “I am familiar with the notion of repetition.”

She turns her head towards the MOON; sitting like a pale eye in the heavens, watching all that history, all that repetition unfold. And then, to the being that seems to inhabit that celestial body.

Unfathomable. Incalculable. Yet… intriguing.

@ofsoulsborne | the song of achilles meme

SHE DOES NOT ANSWER her elder immediately. The Crow Hunter Badge turns over and over again in her hands, fingers clad in blood-caked leather tracing the edges.Eileen’s announcement does not surprise her. The hollow feeling that accompanies it, however, does.

EVERYTHING DIES; she saw it as a soldier, she saw it yet again as her homeland was struck by the affliction, and she has seen it in unerring, unmatched clarity ever since the Hunt began. Tender-heartedness did not flourish in Yarnham; attachment was never rewarded. Eventually, she would learn. Eventually, she would be numb to it, perhaps.

Just like the beasts were.

The badge turns over between her fingers again. Better to die than to become a beast. Yet the universe had a cruel enough sense of humour that, in its own twisted way, it might be fitting for the woman that had once been the one to watch for her colleagues succumbing to the call of blood to succumb herself.

But only if you shared the universe’s idea of what was fitting.

Turning the doll over in his hand, he frowned down at it. The guardians had told him correctly of its use to him, but had neglected to specify exactly what would occur. The world inside the painting was... Unusual, to say the least. For a time, he felt distinctly as though it was trying to reject him, like it knew he was not cut from the same cloth. Snow crunched loudly under his feet, much to his displeasure. 

Exhaling sharply, he stopped in front of a familiar visage, staring up into the statue’s hooded face. “You are testing me,” he said to the image of the goddess; whether this was true or not, he was uncertain, but it made him feel better. The utter silence save for his own movements unnerved him deeply. Rounding it, Jackdaw called into clearing, “Hello?” It was no louder than his usual speaking voice, but the snow made him sound both muffled and altogether too noisy for his taste. 

    pain. the path of pain, the path of glory. a trial accomplished. the vessel takes words into consideration, unswayed from potential danger by thirst to enlighten a curiosity. perhaps that is his curse. not the empathy that so many speak of. mandibles twitch in interest, silk woven gloves coming to touch a porcelain mask as the knight scratches the side of his skull in thought.

    ❛ yet i see opportunity. if i challenge thee to teach the way of blood, will she? ❜ voice rings with zeal, but a mindful one. should the lady decline he would not pursue. the question would simply be asked again on another day.

“...” 

The young woman understood the message, but even she had to wonder if this was no matter of concern. She might not be sure about the resilience of knights, but to her, it didn’t seem like Sir Alonne would hold on for long with such a severe fever. Letting it be just like that would only manage to make her uneasy about her host’s well-being. Some way or another, his health had to be ensured.

@ofsoulsborne