WITHOUT BURDEN IS THE ACHROMATIC SOUL OF CALLOUS BEASTS, FOR THEY STUBBORNLY DEFY THE BALANCE ‘TWEEN GOODNESS AND EVIL. And thus, it matters not how heavy is the weight of all the lives that she has cruelly stolen, the vulpine vastaya is still capable of sauntering across the land with light and noiseless steps ; she dances amidst the flourishing foliage and easily becomes the most beautiful ( and treacherous ) flower of them all. ❝ Have you come, for me ? How flattering, I am truly honored. ❞
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@slvrictus said: “'' would you like to come in? '' [DJ Verse]”
dexter | accepting
“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks!” Akali says, stepping over the threshold of the door. She rolls up on the balls of her feet and falls back down. Getting to meet and spend time with new artists is always so exciting, she struggles to sit still.
“Can I see what you’ve been working on?” she asks, grinning, her dark eyes lit with anticipation. It’s not that she is trying to skip over the pleasantries and get straight into talking business. She is just eager and curious. “Your mixes are so... like... They’ve got this haunting quality about them, and they’re super badass! I love them, is what I’m tryin’ to say.”
Lamb sneaks in to press her mask against his. New years kiss perhaps? Well, either way. She hops away just a moment after doing so.
𝄠 The sudden and brash intrusion of another form in his personal bubble made the virtuoso jolt backwards in an instant, his gun assembled and at a ready shortly after. He took aim at the other masked figure, more on edge than he’d typically be in lieu of the activities he’d been up to prior to her arrival. What those activities were would have been a mystery to any mortal, but to one such as the literal personification of death, it was probably pretty evident that he was, well, planning on giving them some work that night.
Jhin was no stranger to the mythos of the Kindred and their various incarnations, so it only took him a moment to register what it was he was looking at, despite his near death experiences being few and far between. His shoulders seemed to droop a little bit at the notion, gun lowering towards the ground.
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PRISTINE was the blanket of white which enveloped the mortal realm. Moonlight twinkled across those immaculate plains and the gentle dusting upon evergreens to illuminate the darkness which seemed to encompass all. The stillness of the night stole the breath from one’s lungs, begging SILENCE so as not to disturb the peace. Unaccustomed as he was to the visible passage of time, the wandering Prince of the Underworld took a moment to admire the unfamiliar surface — brief though it were. Clouds drifted past parted lips, climbing upwards to the heavens, only to dissipate still far from reach.
An OMEN, one might say.
Try though he may, a denizen of the Nethers would not be pardoned by the FATES. One born of Hade’s House was destined to return, tethered to the abyss. BLOOD-BOUND, Zagreus could not escape his heritage — not that he would cease his attempts by any means. Each time the life fled his immortal form to send him drifting back down the crimson current of the Styx only served to further his resolve. For the godling would risk it all to share but a few words with HER. To cradle her frame close ⟅ dwarfed in the embrace of the son she had once been robbed ⟆ even as those carmine tides beckoned him back —
DEATH could not restrain the son of Hades, the son of Persephone.
Cruel were the Fates to curse him with the same fatal flaw as his father. Even beyond the Realm of the Dead, the tyrant still held power over him. Like a noose about his neck, with each step he could feel the undeniable pull. ASPHYXIATION, the Underworld demanded to smother his soul back within its depths. To claw at that hangman’s hold would be futile, for the gallows’ call remained FINAL. Yet he would continue to run back to that hell regardless of the consequences. For years the Prince was raised within a bed of lies. Nurtured with deceit, Zagreus was none the wiser for so very long. Now that the TRUTH laid bare before him, he could no longer deny himself the hunt for answers. Did he find fault within all who left him blissfully unaware as they stowed away the secret of his birth? Not entirely, however TRUST would take time to restore — if at all.
Thus the crestfallen heir could only rely upon himself, wary of BETRAYAL.
And so he walked on.
Snow pooled within each step, hissing and snapping at his heated heals as if to cry that he simply did not belong here. Blasphemous, Nature called out in utter defiance as it shriveled and died in his wake. Each stride, constricting, to cause the Prince to waver. Strangled coughs and gasps for air — a bitter CHILL to his lungs — echoed about the silent forest. The luminous glow from his exposed toes dulled like fading embers with the distance. Upon his crown, laurel leaves lost their luster, withering to ASH to taint the ground below. Muscle clenched as joints locked from the frigid wind which gusted about him, calloused hands raised in a weak embrace to retain some semblance of warmth. Winter seemed to sap the very marrow from his bones to leave them brittle, HOLLOW.
A DEAD MAN walking, yet he continued towards his demise.
Odd eyes appreciated those strange lands, indescribable even as they sought to banish him. Years of nothing but the same shadows — of BLOOD and DARKNESS — blinded him to the true beauty of life. Even cloaked within the veil of night, there remained a boundless wellspring of energy that was lost within the Underworld. Though his vision blurred about the edge, the glimmer of admiration did not escape his hues. A fragile, but resolute smile lingered as he trudged down the now familiar path to HOME. Yet the strength continued to trickle away from his body, drained inch by inch from what little remained of his reserves.
The final battle which barred his way to freedom had not left the Prince unscathed. Though kin, Hades knew not the meaning of self-restraint and sought to push his son to the very limit. A test of his of his DETERMINATION which Zagreus very nearly failed. Wounds littered his person, some still oozed fresh and stung from the gnawing cold. Bones broken and flesh torn, only a divine could endure such suffering and march on. Whether sheer strength of will or merely dwindling sanity, he refused to succumb to the PAIN — not yet ready to call this attempt a failure. Even as his blood defiled the land and his prospects grew dim, he fought on.
Nearly there...she will be happy to see me, won’t she?
teddy is full of love but takes forever | accepting
//first of all, you’re cute as hell, so jot that down and get the fuck over yourself
second of all, man... i can’t believe we have only been talking for a couple weeks at this point. it really does feel like we’ve known each other for way longer than that. maybe it’s bc we’re both too prone to oversharing, ha!
your writing, too, though, man... it’s really inspirational for me, and seeing you on my dash always gets my muse up. it’s been too long since i wrote a 400+ word reply for this blog, and seeing as i love long threads, it’s always thrilling to meet writers who can pull that kind of word count out of me!
