#unholy-spawned

Lobo spun around, brandishing his meat-hook and scanning the shadows. He smelled the stranger coming, but the bastich still managed to get the drop on him! At first he suspected it was the Bat trying his luck against him, but he quickly realized he was mistaken. This wasn't some human running around wearing a fruity outfit...

*looks up and noticed Spawn*

"Ahh my apologies sir but I like your cape! Very stylish!"

@unholy-spawned

Unprompted Message: // sender: @unholy-spawned // Always Accepting!

Maiz gave the strangely dressed human (he smelled like one to her, and they all stunk of months' old expired soap) a once-over.

The prolonged silence was not because she was offended at the question, but moreso her making sure she heard and processed his statement correctly. The human language wasn't her first and many of their phrases either went over her head or sounded so alien--pun not intended--that she couldn't even figure out what was being said. Her long tail moved in waves behind her (up, down, up down) before forming a question mark.

It seemed to be an emotive feature to make up for her expressionless face.

"--If your inquiry is about my tail, yes. It is real," she finally responded in a matter-of-fact manner.

Send🕯️to hear my character's inner thoughts about your character.

❝ why , thank you. this coming from someone in the running themselves is downright heartwarming. ❞

𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 | @unholy-spawned | 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

"You seem like quite the cocky punk ass. That can get you killed out here kid."

Why the HELL was he feeling..‘overwhelmed’?  He didn’t know this cosplayer so what was it about his presence that flat-out demanded both authority and fear?? Though despite being quite afraid and dare he say it INTIMIDATED Yusuke stood his ground,, nothing else to do with his hands but tuck them into his pockets, if anything at the very least he could act tough.

━━   ❝   𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧.  ❞  Yeah, that was a good comeback…somewhat. “Still, what’s it to you whether I live or die anyway??” What was the other’s angle? Was it just sage advice? Yusuke could already tell by the tone alone this man must have seen countless deaths somehow..but then how?? Was he actually a yokai in disguise?? Was this disguise in a way to remain conspicuous? No, o course not..he sticks out like a Jackrabbit in a herd of turtles. 

ghost of tsushima starters || @unholy-spawned || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Scorpion writes his convictions in the blazes; the violent crimson ocean magmatic waves crashing on the jagged terrain of the Netherrealm, washing everything away to naught, carrying them out to the deepest depths. For Hanzo's hopes and dreams on parchment had long burned away to ash and dust, and the construct of his mortal time, along with his sacred convictions have been erased. All this loss, emptiness, the void that once housed his beating heart and indefatigable soul had given away to this acid decay of Nether, eating away at his bones. How erupting columns of hellfire curled, weakened, and pulverized so many pieces of him; and the hellspawn specter became a mere jigsaw puzzle that couldn't be properly put together, as the picture of Hanzo Hasashi had become distorted and unresolved.

How Netherrealm and his pyromancy became a lethal combustible combination of danger and destruction; a volatile compound that could both destruct and rebirth anything anew. How Scorpion still feels that distinct and recognizable lack of self-preservation, in a way a dying person falls after being knocked unconscious. A human body, suddenly turned to meat, its gravitational collapse impeded only by the tissue and muscle connection to the bone inside it. He too, has turned people in this state as a direct result of vicious violence and vengeance he perpetrated against them countless times.

Beneath the tendrils and tongues of undulating blaze, the specter's haunting impression appears before Spawn while encompassing the dualism of frayed humanity and unworldly strangeness. His emotions untamed and yet contained, as stars of his pearly eyes burn out to reveal once compassionate and fervored eyes of Grandmaster Hasashi. How he bleeds flame, and yet his gaze stirs a humanly passion and determination which he was known to encompass as a Shirai Ryu warrior. "My destructive firestorm may continue to bepaint the world aglow, but nothing could satiate my heart and soul, for the putrid fumes of burning flesh surround and engulf me. I am lost in the ash and I fear I could never go back to who I was before."

RICHARD SIKEN : CRUSH STARTERS (PART II) || @unholy-spawned || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || It's been one of these restless nights, Scorpion has been fighting the demons inside his head. Overthinking, rolling around in his sheets, overwhelmed by emotions and feelings. Trying to dive into the ocean of his deepest dreams to calm his mind. Hopeless, as he would encounter and experience another sleepless night. Encompassed in this stronghold of loneliness and sorrow, originally built to secure his heart from incursion; for its structure remains long gone, and there are only remnants of hardened scars of ramparts - pungent metallic tang of blood, bones, and ash - remain.

While Hanzo Hasashi remains solidified as a corporeal, formidable being, there lays harrowing self-immolation in his subconscious. With such vicious cycle of living and dying, the demons in his psyche dare once again to expose this manipulation, as fulminating scorch of his flames soar like painted wings into the night sky. Perhaps the unattainable version of the flawless Hanzo Hasashi who live in his fleeting dreams, the daydreams of his fullest potential as the harrowing nightmares plunge him between the opposing versions of himself, bound at each end of the timeline, struggling to move in one direction or the other. Each portion of his body pulling towards either side, tearing synapses apart, with heart and brain moving in polar opposite directions, as he tries to be the warrior the Earthrealm expects him to be. Mother of all disappointment and shortcomings is expectations, Hanzo muses, as tempestuous rush of emotions become a dreadful ocean in his heart and soul.

It feels like his heart is in a cage, trapped by the love he still cannot disengage. Undying love blinds him, raging an inevitable war to wage. How his erupting emotions ricochet between doubts and certainties; as Hanzo finds himself amidst the shaking, the bracing, the unsteadiness and then the collapse. The rubble coughing in the dust of himself, groaning under the burdensome weight upon his raw, rubbed shoulders leaned against the Grandmaster's chamber. And the concept of time becomes elusive yet again; a fleeting moment that is difficult to grasp. Minutes to hours, exclusive as it slips away in an endless clasp. The seconds ticking by without remorse, and his mind tries to hold onto every moment. But time remains an unyielding force, a relentless adversary that never stays dormant. How could I resist against something so vast, fast, and immeasurable? Hanzo clutches the kunai, what was left of Harumi Hasashi, as the caged, frozen vessel of her fragile being sits numb in his psyche; mute with eyes blurred without a morsel of life.