#saed

Pukei contemplate the mush

Pukei punished for stealing the mush

【 🖕. 】 ― ...

" Uhhhmm.... " she, uh... She almost feels a little bad. Kira... gives Sora's shoulder an awkward pat. This feels a 'lil more like something she'd rather glasses unc to deal with.

the sin of being born wrong cont. — @saed

【 🎡. 】 ― He found it'd become rather difficult to think since the arrival of the stranger Bloodfiend. The sensation of stakes and impalement had long grown stale, an itch perhaps, one wrought countless times across his body for his failures as a Father; and yet, the... Golden Bough, as they'd called it...

How strange it was for something be both so light and so heavy. Strung within him and taking root deep within his heart, siphoning his resolve and feeding upon his dreams until the light of its heavenly glow drowned out all other stars.

Leaving him with fresh reminder of his hunger, as if this sickening disease of theirs had grown anew upon blank slate where his lifetime of experience had given him strength to bury it deep below.

Yes. Thinking had grown rather burdensome. It was... it was simpler, to bow his head and listen to his Children illuminated by gold.

He owed it to them after all, for how disgraceful of a Father they had been burdened by for all these years...

A shame that the blood of Bloodfiends tasted so repugnant to their own kind. This all could have been far easier had his Family been able to quench their thirst upon the wounds they'd bored into him over and over and over and over—

"what ... have you made of this? is this— is this the la manchaland that you have always wanted,  father?"

" ...No, " his voice was dry and tired. No more did the bright spark that'd once come to define his person shine through. Perhaps it was his age that was starting to get to him — a human jest, indulgence once so common now tasted foreign within his mind.

Ah...

Even as the Golden Bough crumbled his mind and pried it open to the weight of his failures and responsibilities, of all that he owed to his Children, to his Family...

Even now, how he envied humans for their dreams. For their tomorrow.

...

The Priest... was a fitting role for Curiambo. He was fortunate that it'd been the Second Kindred who decided to visit him that evening. His mind was almost his own when it was just the other. There was no forgiveness for impiety, nothing that could pardon the transgressions Curiambo had partaken in for all of his love for his Father, for all of the begging and harm he'd bring to himself, yet... it was difficult to forget that there had been a time where Don Quixote had been proud. Perhaps... he still was... had he ever said... ?

" La Manchaland... " there was a pause as Don Quixote shakily breathed in the stale air; a wretched, wheezing sound brought forth from lungs injured countless times. There was the unmistakable scent of blood, clawing at the back of his throat. He'd failed... He'd failed, and now he was his Family's to use. His dream of coexistence...

" La Manchaland... has become a tragedy, " a faint smile, cold as winter, ghosting across his ruined && bloodied face, " Like those in the stories of old. "

...Once, long ago... he wondered... what it would have been like... had they'd all joined him alongside Sancho...

...His mind grew weary. Grief has saturated the soil of what he had once thought could be paradise, and he was growing tired of it alongside them all. Perhaps love... was a curse best left forgotten.

" Raise your head, Curiambo, " he lowered his head, a dismissal that brought his gaze down towards the supplicant Child. There was nothing left for Don Quixote to do but... serve his Family. Find their happiness... in the suffering of others... " And go join your Siblings... I hear... the Parade music. "

Screams still echoed even whilst he and Yoshihide left, younger holding back tears whilst the elder couldn't contain his giddy. A souvenir in the form of her instructor's head was held carelessly by its head; a reminder of what happens to those who threaten his daughter's happiness, both for him to admire and for Yoshihide to think back upon fondly. Though it seems fondness is the furthest thing from the child's mind, body shaking as she abruptly scurries out of the middle corridor and pushing past familiar dress shoes all the while.

"Y'should've seen their faces, haha!!"

Head now thrown to the floor and rolling toward the other man, expression as unreadable as it ever was.

SAED on Petrol and Diesel: भारत सरकार ने पेट्रोल-डीजल पर Special Additional Excise Duty पर बड़ी कटौती का ऐलान किया है। जानिए सरकार के इस कदम का किसे फायदा होगा। SAED: पेट्रोल-डीजल पर सरकार का फैसला क्या है ? सरकार ने पेट्रोल पर उत्पाद शुल्क 13 रुपए से घटाकर 3 रुपए प्रति लीटर कर दिया है। SAED में 10 रुपए प्रति लीटर की कटौती की गई है। जबकि डीजल पर उत्पाद शुल्क पूरी तरह शून्य कर दिया है। जो पहले 10…

➣ . The weight of living was a burden Vergilius was keenly familiar with. To have survived when he'd thought to die was a sin he had been forced to grow accustomed to and forced to bear time && time again.

But there had always been reason for him to live. A job. A duty. A promise. He had to live, for he was the only one who could. And yet, it was difficult for him to hold onto that when those reasons had all been said && done, && the last remaining threads of promises became increasingly sparse of lacking for him to truly believe in.

Moving in with Dante had made things clearer, made it easier to breathe, unwilling to let the manager ( no longer the manager ) see his weaknesses. Lest they were to do something so foolish as worry over what amounted to nothing.

...Yet on days where Dante found themselves away... when time began to slip from his grip... he found himself unable wanting to do little more than to stay lying down when he woke up with the weight of his sins pressing down upon his chest.

However such coveted respite of sloth was far too indulgent for him to have, the flimsy threat that Dante might return early just enough to have him crawling out of bed, moving to the living room instead where he tried to keep in mind the possibility — such horribly selfish hope — in order to prevent further spiraling... only for his meager strength to continue to wane. Yet he had to be strong, not for himself, never for himself, but for the people around him. For Dante.

...And as of late... for the bird's as well. A reminder brought to him in form of loud screech from Dante's pet abnormality, one that would have typically irritated him on better days, yet now...

" ... " the sound garnered little reaction from Vergilius. His eyes still distant, lost in memories, lost in grief, lost in sin.

...But it was persistent, as always, && gradually... slowly... he was brought back to reality. The past would forever haunt him, but the vibrancy of memories fade as the numbness recedes its tides — gone for now with promise of return, yet he'd made peace with that fate long ago — bringing forth a prickling sensation of needles crawl across his body, allowing reality to sink into his skin && settle deep into the crevices of his cracked heart.

" ...Haah... " he still struggled to find words, his throat clogged up && choked by guilt, &&, truthfully, the idea of speaking made him nauseous. Still, Vergilius made an effort for its sake, " ...There's... There's no need to worry for me, Gaze. " His tongue felt clumsy && awkward in his mouth, the words a murmured whisper, barely audible past the hoarseness of his voice.

He knew his feeble reassurances would only draw further ire from the Gazing Bird, as would his pitiful attempt of a smile, but habit was habit, && he was still human, susceptible as any other to such things.

...Attempt that lasted but a moment as he found himself unable to keep it up for long. &&.. && Vergilius sighed again. Tension in his shoulders remained... the past demanding his attention... but the bird was truly relentless && he was left with little choice but to accept its attempts of comfort, finally blinking — if only for a brief moment — as he rests his head against their feathered form. Letting the warmth of a living being chase away the frozen over hell of his memories. There was still plenty to be reckoned with... but for now...

He would let himself rest in the abnormality's company.