albaitross

[albaitross]

poise and demeanor and power - unchanged yet ever so fractionally glowing, ascending to the heights of one who has some amount of experience in looking downwards. but it is not the kind of person who looks down even as their own feet remain planted in the earth, it is the kind of person who looks down because they themselves exist above the world itself.

or something to that effect. perhaps you're wrong with your judgment, as fanciful as you like to be. but you will make a modest bet on the guess anyway.

"Kratos." an acknowledgement and a test of the syllables. your smile doesn't falter despite it all - growing instead. so, so very amused, and still so. even though the smart thing would be to bow your head a bit, show some humility... well, as the mythos go, it was hubris that brought low the heavenly messengers; the morning star, the brightest pinnacle of the sky, was unceremoniously tossed into the earth's dregs for the simple sin of pride. supposedly. 

supposedly.

the thought sharps your smile for a second - too sharp, a little bitter. but it's a passing thought so it's an equally passing feel, and your mere curiosity for the present resumes its primary place after.

"What a fine name, my good sir! In my homeland, there's a figure of myth with that same name - a divine figure meant to embody the idea of strength, serving the king of all gods as a hound of his rule. Ignoring any unpleasant details, it is a name connoting power. A good name for a good child, yes?"

you laugh, the sound tinkling like a nymph's chimes. "And a child you might just well be, in the eyes of the vast, endless expanse of all in existence. Or are you as old as the nothingness between worlds? Older than the primordial origin of the universe itself? If you are, I'll have to excuse myself there - not even I'm that old. But from what you've said so far, I'll take a guess on my spinning bottle and say you aren't. Not nearly, at least. You're at least an old-sounding middle aged old man, and old enough to have known what war truly means."

idly, and somewhat performatively, you stroke your chin, a thoughtful gesture. "All the more reason, in that sense, that I must play games, Mister Oldie Knight Guy. Even if you're super wise and super smart and super experienced - with age comes stagnancy, the curse of predictability and habit and safe choices. It would be a practical thing if you learned to loosen up some more. But in my sole case, I just like having a fun time by—as you put it—regularly getting a rise out of people, and some more! Not to say the mask is false, per say."

you shrug. "Youths like me should just enjoy life to its fullest after all, before we lose the ability to. Though that doesn't mean it can't be regained - and the same goes for you too. As you say, there'll always be something that remains, so maybe your lost childhood innocence and wonder is somewhere in there too. Maybe? Can't know without finding out.

"So why not play the game for a while? Spin the bottle, trade questions and answers. Maybe you'll rekindle the joy of discovery and the innocence of learning. Remember what it means to be a man again - not that you really need that much of a nudge to do so, if you ask me, Mister Rusty Hair Man. Because I'll have to disagree and say there's no such thing as a man who ever transcends themselves—man will always be so, if not in skin than in their heart and soul." a pause. tone dropping quieter, for the briefest of heartbeats - "A man who isn't a man is just a monster otherwise."

"Anyway!" —cheerful! "Pleaaaaase won't you humor my silly little jokes to pass the time, Sir Taller Old Man? Or are you really so much in a hurry that you'd rather just have everything be so boringly straightforward? Liiiive a little!"

his  smile  withers  to  nothing  ,  right  before  the  young  women's eyes.  how  long  had  it  been  since  kratos  was  seen  as  young  , since  someone  met  his  prose  and  otherworldly  gaze  back  with  its  own?  (  too  long  to  keep  track  and  far  too  long  for  him  to  care  for  the  specifics  ):  weather  the  spoken  tongue  is of  god  or  beast  is  irrelevant:  kratos  can  tell  that  she  ,  too  ,  plays  the  same  part  in  this  play  on  life's  ever  moving  stage  (  in  this  fabrication  upon  fabrication  ):  the  women  is  no  more  ordinary  than  he  and  ordinary  is  a  word  not  used  amongst  his  vernacular  often.  modern  man  would  give  them  wolves  among  sheep  (  a  shepherd  amongst  its  own  herd  ):  devils  in  the  presence  of  heaven  ---  angels  at  the  gates  of  hell  (  they  do  not  belong  here  ):  mayhaps  ,  neither  belongs  anywhere.  what  was  a  coward  made  god?  nothing  more  than  what  still  remained  buried  under  false  holy  skin.  these  where  the  people  that  interested  kratos  the  most  after  living  for  aeons  and  aeons  ---  individuals  that  kept  him  guessing  ,  individuals  that  kept  his  blade  sharpened.

listening  to  her  is  easy  and  following  her  strange  mannerism  is  just  as  well.  once  ,  long  ago  he'd  once  been  like  her:  so  young  ,  so  wild  ,  so  free:  a  knight  who  wanted  to  do  right  by  the  people  and  end  a  thousand  year  war  of  senseless  bloodshed.  but  ,  that  was  how  the  mighty  and  righteous  always  began  (  so  full  of  hope  and  life  and  optimism  ):  the  realities  of  the  world  had  a  knack  for  knocking  one  down.  to  taking  all  emotion  but  grief  and  depression  ---  stripping  any  ability  for  one  to  see  color  ,  for  one  to  hold  any  laughter.  ❝  man  may  always  be  man  young  lady  but  some  do  forge  a  path  beyond.  not  all  that  one  does  is  always  foretold  by  how  they  began.  ❞  it  is  here  that  kratos  crosses  his  arms  over  his  chest  (  to  feel  the  feel  of  his  arms  ,  nothing  more  ): people  that  came  from  the  same  worldview  may  have  boarded  the  same  ship  home  but  both  would  have  the  harbor  as  they  say.  ❝  much  more  than  studied  wisdom  i  can assure.  it  is  no  different  than  an  illiterate  man  learning  to  read  and  do  script  or  a  youth  learning  the  rules  of  the  hunt.  a  piece  of  the  identity  before  will  always  remain.  ❞  it  is  here  that  his  arms  unfold  ,  his  arm  extending  to  pop  itself  on  his  waist  the  same  side  as  his  concealed  blade.

❝  kratos.  ❞  surname  unneeded  and  it  is  here  that  he  hovers  for  a  lingering  moment  ,  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  curl  of  her  lashes  then  on  her  smiling  lips  (  her  expression  something  oddly  twisted  ,  a  look  that  vaguely  reminded  him  of  a  mithos  slipped  deep  into  madness  ):  her  voice  was  sugary  sweet  but  still  eerie  ---  seemingly  slithering  like  the  tongue  of  an  unbecoming  garden's  snake  in  eden.  ❝  any  other  details  are  unimportant.  do  these  quirks  of  yours  regularly  get  a  rise  out  of  others?  or  would  this  be  ,  as  you  said:  one  of  many  varieties  of  face  paints  to  wear.  ❞  it  is  more  statement  than  question.  curiosity  make  itself  clear  in  the  dark  of  his  irises  ,  he  moves  a  bit  closer  towards  her  and  his aura  grows  even  grander  (  makes  him  seem  even  taller  ):  casting  a  downward  glare  at  her  self-satisfied  expression.  ❝  i  cannot  say  that  i  have  ,  young  lady.  my  youth  was  spent  during  a  time  of  war  and  not  much  time  for  leisure.  why  make  it  a  game?  why  not  simply  ask  and  i  can  do  the  same.  if  you  do  not  wish  to  answer  ,  you  have  the  right  not  to  speak.  ❞

[albaitross]

reblog if 🔪

[albaitross]

Patti Smith, from “Year of the Monkey”

[albaitross]

so this accidentally got out of hand

[albaitross]

eyyyy I finally got another concept design down

still not feeling sai tho wwww

[albaitross]

they’re the exact same person.

also I really want to do some cool photoset idea but lmaooo can’t muster the wholesome effort for it wwwwwwwwww

[albaitross]

the thing about me is I'm cute, laid back and easy going but in like a really intense and stressful kinda way

[albaitross]

Justice reversed and Nine of Swords

You're losing sleep over the unfairness of it all.

[albaitross]

this man has quite the red hair, you think.

red not like apples, not like roses, not even blood. it's a darker hue; red like rust, like aged wine. it contrasts well with his countenance - a young man, yet too severe in expression to be that young at all. youth, after all, is bursting with liveliness, with inexperience, with a lack of a need to know how to perfectly and eloquently compose oneself.

suffice to say - interesting! this little sojourn already has some color to it.

"Little baring?" you repeat, mimicking the naive innocence of birds as you tilt your head. you proceed to break that impression immediately after with a sharp, amused look. "Yes, how well put. Whoever and whatever and wherever the question - in the end, it doesn't matter much, does it? After all, a person is hardly changed after asking such things. You shall always be you, young man."

a bark of a laugh, short but rough. "But even so, visages can very deceiving, don't you think, Mister? A person shall always be a person, but there's so many varieties of face paints to wear, impressions to cultivate, terms of addressal - you understand, yes? If I'm correct in my guesses, I think you have the wisdom to understand, at least. Though of course! No need to indulge me if you don't feel like it, but—"

you shrug, casual as you lean a little with unrestrained curiosity now. "You could at least offer a name, old man. And I'll be polite and offer one in return. And if you want, we can then part ways here -

"Or, we can play my favorite guessing game in the entire grand universe!" you clap your hands together like some eager seal, grinning so cheerfully, all your sharp and loose and whatever edges are barrelled over yet again. "How about it, Sir Rusty Hair? I for one prefer guessing about people! Names, faces, demeanor, selves, ideals and truths - like a very elaborate game of spin the bottle! You have played some variant of spin the bottle before, yes?"

☆ — @albaitross.

if  asked  ‘what  is  the  point  in  having  wings?’,  he  gives  answer  upon  the  altar     —     to  remind  humanity  that  even  gods  can  be  locked  to  their  thrones  of  shimmering  silver  stars  and  chained  by  divinity.     even  those  blessed  with  domain  over  a  populace  with  immense  faith     ,     so  too  did  a  god  have  to  serve  those  of  little     ,     if  having  any  faith  in  deities  or  higher  beings  at  all.     still     ,     the  duty  and  grief  forged  celestial  continues  to  repeat  this  train  of  thought  within  the  depth  of  his  mind  ( wandering,  even  if  not  lost:  is  still  a  terribly  lonely  affair ):    maybe  this  was  why  all  of  glory  kept  to  the  heavens  but  even  with  unclipped  wings,  his  feet  longed  for  the  familiarity  of  earth’s  solid  ground.     kratos  stops  as  the  silhouette  of  a  young  women  conquers  his  expansive  field  of  vision  and  manages  to  give  an  ancient  catacombs  a  bit  of  reprise.     it  was  not  often  the  last  remaining  head  of  cruxis  cross  paths  with  another  who  bore  a  inkling  to  his  own     —     and  aselia's  overseer  knew  it  would  not  be  his  last  for  as  long  as  he  still  drifted  space  with  and  without  derris-kharlan.      

❝  where  i  was  prior  and  who  i  was  is  of  little  baring  to  the  visage  before  you     ,     young  lady.  ❞     of  course     ,     to  those  of  different  and  modern  tongues  kratos  spoke  as  old  as  the  stars  that  littered  the  skies  (  he  was  never  one  for  keeping  up  with  the  times  ):     especially     ,     not  when  it  meant  encountering  one  who's  origins  could  differ  greatly  from  his  own  war  waged  ones.

[albaitross]

Velimir Khlebnikov, Collected Works, Vol. 3: Selected Poems, tr. by Paul Schmidt

[albaitross]

| RULES | VERSES | RP STARTERS | ABOUT |

"I'll show you that the WORLD can be changed! No matter how much time it may take. Even if it's not in my lifetime, I'm sure someone will carry on my WILL."

Indie & Semi-Selective RP blog for FLYNN SCIFO from TALES OF VESPERIA.

Crossover/OC Friendly. Multi-ship. Write to match RP partner. 18+.

[albaitross]

doodling my girl for the first time in ten million years (my girl when she bothers to actually dress up) (and wear some makeup) (it felt like Informed Attractiveness trope in full effect until i doodled this bc she IS pretty she IS!!!!!!!!! when she wants to be) (which is never half the time)

[albaitross]

　　　　　　I THINK IT COULD BE ME.

tem green / a

[albaitross]

At the end of my rope and it keeps getting longer like some sort of clown handkerchief bit?

[albaitross]

乙女解剖／まふまふ【歌ってみた】

[albaitross]

[Hullo! It's been a while since I did a self promo of any sorts but I do want to get out there a little more. So if you're down to interact with a multimuse blog featuring genshin and star rail muses (including OCs), please leave a like/reblog and I'll come check you out! ^^]

[albaitross]

stares blandly for a solid ten seconds before returning an equally, disgustingly sweet smile of her own. though there's an undercurrent of something genuinely pleased to it regardless.

"good! i would be a bit disappointed otherwise, y'know? youths are all about that damnation of stuff and more stuff, but that's certainly no excuse for forgoing style in the process."

and as if to prove her point, she pulls out a smoking pipe from her bag - sleek and gold-gilded, a thing you'd see in old movies on mafia and hanamachi courtesans. she waves the end of it at Smiley Boy. "though, i personally think you could be a bit more stylish about it. don't you agree?"

@albaitross replied to [ x ]

may vc: oh thank god it's not a vape

TAKES A DRAG FROM HIS CIGARETTE. Gives her the most saccharine smile ever. ❝ It may not look like it, but I happen to have standards, May-san. ❞