false-majesty

[false-majesty]

Aku's hackles rose on the nape of his neck as he watched the throne emerge from the very Earth itself. He supposed of all demonstrations she could give of her powers and of her dominion in this place, this was one of the more benign — but it truly served to remind him that he was in one of the few corners of this Earth which hadn't yet yielded to him.

Where his hooves met the Earth, the grass is withering and sprouting again endlessly — struggling in vain to take root even despite the poison of his touch. The simplistic organisms were themselves a mere appetizer for the great demon, and the Heart of the Valley would be stripped of life in an instant if Aku had his way. But rather than answer the gentle touch of her grace with a sledgehammer, just this once he's choosing humility. All the better to perhaps bring the Goddess to his way of thinking, rather than turn her from him. After many such failed encounters with other entities, Aku had learned that it wasn't always prudent to come in hot when he had something worth negotiating for.

The demon gives a piglike chuff of acknowledgement when he's addressed, before his form destabilizes again and he sprouted forth from where he'd once stood in a column of black fire and towered high above her in his normal guise. The silhouette of his horns cast a deep, ominous shadow upon her throne.

"You are iso-lated here, to not know who I am nor why I should seek you out!" he began, tilting his head at her in an almost doglike gesture of curiosity.

"I am A-KU, EMPEROR of EARTH — God of Corruption, Beast of the Fog, among other titles... perhaps, you've at least heard of me?" He favored her an indulgent little smirk, like a celebrity might when patronizing to their greatest fan. About his person, there struck up an unpleasant cacophony of buzzing that seemed to vibrate the very air against one's skin. His aura had unfurled from him, and spread itself about like pestilence.

"Intro-ductions aside, as you may have guessed... my presence here is no mere happenstance. I come here for one reason, and that is to free you from your... unfortunate prison."

"For you see, your freedom would bene-fit us both. My world — no, my kingdom! — is dying. But it is more than that... I am he that is killing it."

He grinned openly at her now, spreading his tendrils across the floor of her prison so that she might witness the way the plantlife withered away and the Earth itself dried of its nutrients as though baked by the heat of a thousand years' sun.

"As the God of Corruption, it is my self-described purpose to destroy all known life. Just as it is yours to rejuvenate the Earth after it has been blighted. I know why you were imprisoned, and it is my intuition that the other Seasons did not understand you, just as my adversaries do not know my Nature in kind..."

He circled her now, leaving a blighted trail of Earth behind him which slowly regrew life at the absence of his touch.

"I have heard tell of your zest for creation. Your joy in over-abundance... I could use a Goddess like you, to replenish my stores, that I might forever feast upon your excess..."

Her creations provided little comfort in such a secluded space.

Here, she could grow whatever she wanted. Her siblings had made sure of that— just as they had made sure that she nor a single one of her creations, even the smallest sprout, could make it out of this prison.

She had tried. Back when she'd first been put here, the thorns were merely a cage. Now, after dozens upon dozens of attempts to free herself, they had stretched into a whole valley. The Valley of Thorns, that is the name she had heard the mortals that ventured or stumbled into her prison/domain, call it. Many of them were still here, in a way. Their bones were still here.

Because getting in was easy. Getting out was a whole other story. Nobody got out unless she allowed them to— for obvious reasons, the embodiment of life didn't wish to be alone.

And yet she was, she was alone. No matter how much food she grew for them, mortals eventually died. Ironically enough, few of them had done so from old age. They tended to die trying to find a way out, or killed each other out of greed if they arrived in groups— nothing was enough for humans, not even an endless source of fruits and vegetables. They always wanted more.

The samurai had only wanted rest. Ironic, as he had also refused when she insisted that he stay and rest. Mortals never know what they want.

But this time around it wasn't a human that ventured here. She could feel it in the gnarling branches that made up her prison— something alive was roaming through them. Grass and flowers sprouted, trying to find the other. Her head tilted as she felt her creations wither and die as soon as they were touched by this other being. Other immortals never visited her, knowing better than to try and approach. Nobody wanted to be held responsible for anything involving her and her possible release from her prison.

Or ALMOST nobody. She could hope this one had good reasons to be here.

And he was calling to her.

The very center of the valley was her true domain. All plant life was vibrant and full of life. The shimmering air shied away from the visitor, but moved towards a specific spot on the ground. From which then a large, thick yet short stem emerged and instantly produced a bud, which grew in size, bigger and bigger until it bloomed, like a flowery throne in which she was already seated.

Her nymph form was her go to for meeting people. A form that was easy to underestimate, but that maintained enough eeriness to show that she was not to be messed with, for she was no mortal. Human-looking and yet not human enough, with eyes too big, skin so pale it was nearly translucent, the limbs and neck too long, too thin, the body covered by a fabric that could only be described as short and see through, the hair even longer, flowing as if moved by a breeze that only affected it; and an expression that shielded conflicting emotions: contentment and tension, stoicism and mischief.

"You are far from your home," she mused, voice light as an echo. "No immortal wanders its way here, what brings you?"

[false-majesty]

PSA | Hello all! I just created a RPThreadtracker for Aku. 🤘🏻 Do take a look and let me know if I missed one of our threads!

As always, this blog takes second banana to my main muse, Megatron over at @prevailinghatred, so I'll be accepting fewer threads here and replying slower overall here. So bear that in mind before approaching for interacts, ay. 🤘🏻

[false-majesty]

the five homoerotic love languages:

- intimate stabbing

- outright obsession

- confused pining

- "no one knows me like you do"

- lifelong promises that always sound suspiciously like wedding vows

[false-majesty]

[[ A riveting tale! ]]

[false-majesty]

USEFUL SITES FOR ROLEPLAYERS 2.0

This is an updated version of my original post since I've found some more useful websites since then.

roleplay formatter: Made by the awesome @rpclefairy. I honestly can't recommend this one enough. Great for adding color, changing the font size, and the whole shebang with bold + italics + underline + strikethrough. 10 out of 10 always use.

word html: I actually just stumbled upon this and am absolutely in love with it. It works a lot like roleplay formatter and has WYSIWYG, HTML, and SOURCE CODE options. 10 out of 10 awesome alternative.

fsymbols + emojipedia: These are both great for making your tags fancy and whatnot.

alt codes: This is genuinely great for teaching you how to make the symbols with your keyboard for everyday use so there's that. It's especially useful if you and/or your muses speak a second language so that's a bonus.

text color fader: *marge vc* I just think gradient effects on text is neat. *end marge vc*

list of colors (wikipedia): Has a list of an infinite number of colors and their hex codes. Very useful if I do say so, myself. But that's just me.

rgb color code: Just stumbled upon this one like I did with word html and is nothing short of interesting! Might not be one I'd use on the regular but it's definitely worth looking into IMHO.

And, as per usual, feel free to reblog and add more! <333

[false-majesty]

write your rarepairs. fill that ao3 tag with rarepairs. convert people to your rarepair by making good content of it. draw your rarepair. love your rarepair. even if you are the sole person who made it up with a few people in japan drawing fanart, you have so much power and control at your fingertips by wanting to create. sure, you’ll have to make your own meals while people into popular ships can filter by precise tags to get exactly what you want, but you have something they don’t: you can make your own fandom experience enjoyable and make several people happy in the process by making that counter go up for pieces of content.

i don’t care if your favs don’t even look at each other in canon. if you see narrative parallels between them and you think they complete each other, let the content do the talking.

[false-majesty]

"How cute," Aku said dryly, warily plucking the proferred glass from Bill's tiny little hand while the other had been mid-drink, and simply eating it glass and all. Embryonic screams cocktail — to Bill's credit, it's a marvelously unlikely combination! Its flavor is tangy and bright, like biting a lemon garnish almost.

"You've got a strange choice in company, coming to me of all people." Least of all when Aku wasn't feeling 'companionable' nor charitable tonight.

"But you're quite right. They did indeed wish to 'team up' as you so put it. Whereas you — what? Just want a drinking buddy? you'll forgive me for being dubious as to your intentions..."

"YOU THINK I KEEP TRACK OF AND/OR CARE WHAT THEY DO? THERE'S SCORES OF ME AND DOZENS OF YOU. THE ONE I MET WAS TALLER." A bit of a dig at him-- Bill could break the fourth wall too!

"I BET THE OTHERS YOU MET CAME TO YOU ASKIN' FOR SOME KIND OF TEAM UP. NOT ME. I WON. I'M JUST HERE FOR KICKS." He waved a hand, procuring a very corporeal martini glass in the other.

"YOU WANT A DRINK? I MAKE A MEAN COCKTAIL. MADE WITH FRESH SCREAMS OF THE UNBORN." All those human lives that never got to be because he hadn't been fooled by a pair of brothers who'd just swapped outfits.

He takes his time having a long slurpy sip.

[false-majesty]

...Communicating this way is beginning to be bothersome.

Aku never was the sort of person to send multiple paragraphs-long texts when instead he could just speak directly to whomever he addressed, whenever he pleased, through the usage of his powers. Or better still, just show up whenever he wanted to talk to someone. But he didn't know enough of the other's tolerance for intrusion quite yet to discern whether it would be welcome for them to meet face-to-face without some kind of scheduled time slot.

Let Shockwave think Aku cared to respect his space. Let him think that the demon had any regard whatsoever for his personhood and his time. That's how he had won over others previously, masquerading as a being capable of professional understanding, when really that was furthest from the truth. It was something he'd learned to fake with great skill, when he'd learned that sometimes (once in a while!) a mortal was more valuable cooperating with him, and alive, than they were dead.

"I had thought you might say that..." His voice echoes supernaturally in the room, from everywhere yet nowhere.

"You'll forgive me for switching to 'voice chat' heheh. I just tire of typing lengthy replies on such a small screen." Here was a guy that could quite easily shrink himself down to accommodate the usage of said 'small screen', but... far be it for him to think to do so.

"Don't bother looking for me, by the way. I'm not in the room with you. If I were... believe me when I say, you'd know."

"As for the matter at hand... when I claim to have most anything at my ready disposal, I mean it. So, try me. Just this once... name something, and it shall be yours."

Like a genie in that regard, Shockwave. Or perhaps more aptly, a monkey's paw. One couldn't be certain where Aku sourced his ill-gotten gains. Were they something he simply conjured from thin air, or were they things he'd pilfered? Would they disappear the moment you didn't look at them? Well.. suppose you just had to find out.

"Call it... a gesture of good faith between us. So that you know I am serious in my intentions to — shall we say — headhunt you. Just, don't name something that I might not know what it is. Try something simple. Say, gold or jewels perhaps..."

Did Aku actually think Shockwave had any interest whatsoever in material wealth? Well, yes and no. On the one hand, all mortals seemed to have a particular fondness for money. But on the other — what exactly did robots need to buy?

Multiverse existence was old news to Shockwave.

Scrubbing through the footage, honing in on key factors ( responses, frame designs, distant schemas ), he could already tell that these weren't all him. Not quite, yet were. There never existed cross-contamination between him ( of this universe; the primary but failed experiment ) and any other alternatives. He could not speak for the others nor would he care.

Inter-verse mingling didn't carry much merit to him. He had accomplished more where others often failed, where others were often meek; unfocused. However, he did find their creativity to be inspiring, jotting down a few observations of where he could carry his future curiosities.

Did he feel watched? In a literal sense, yes. Was this a new sensation? No. Having endured Soundwave and his fleet of personal spies- nay, actually, even before that. Back when Cybertron was crawling with insects in every corner, carefully watching every Senator for potential dissidents. Even now he was sure the Unmaker kept his tether to him, parsing a bit of his spark into itself; an attachment to life where it had none.

To be so important, so needing to be snuffed from existence, to be in someone's focus was normalcy he couldn't be bothered with detesting anymore.

This was different. It reads with intrigue. Whether of business value or passing interest, Shockwave is yet to discern.

[ RECIPIENT: ???; SENDER: SHOCKWAVE ]

» Notwithstanding what the others have done, for I can tell some were driven by a level of fealty, you must have an agenda. After all, that is the common cited motive for such fatal, corrupt research. » If you have been watching closely, as I can see in your evidence, then you already know that I am little concerned with morality. There's no need to ask of that from me, in particular. » You are making hard sells and they are tempting, but what I am seeing is lack of proof on what can be promised. Explain to me what you are wanting and how you intend on honor your promises of "never lacking" and there might be considerations to uphold.

[false-majesty]

No shit Sherlock, Aku might've said in his own words, were he in better spirits. But instead the Emperor just sighs and rolls his eyes at her.

"Yesss, don't think I don't know that..." Is he being catty? Perhaps. But far be it for him to let down his guard so easily when caught feeling just the slightest bit sorry for himself.

"It's just that — mortal substances hardly affect me. So you'll forgive me for disposing of it so in-discreetly." Case in point, he procures a glittering vial of liquid from thin air with a flourish of his claws, demonstrating for her benefit the sort of stuff which he'd ordinarily indulge. Just a few cups of the super-concentrated, enchanted alcohol within could poison a herd of elephants, yet he could drink several servings and barely get a buzz. And with another flex of his claws, that vial disappears back from whence it came.

"Life's hard when your vices must be magical for them to work on you... Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a brewer capable of replicating this recipe? Don't even get me started..." It was practically potionry, which itself was a dying artform in Aku's dimension.

The edge of a brow ridge quirks. Is he stupid?-

The seeker has to crane the long length of her neck to even attempt to look at him in some level of equal. A servo finding the curve of her hip to rest claws there.

No, he's not stupid, just odd.

"It's a sign of solidarity. The act of passing a vice."

[false-majesty]

A small, black kitten with suspiciously flaming eyebrows twines sinuously against your leg with a gentle purr. Go ahead, pick it up. Coddle it. It won't bite —

[false-majesty]

@tacticturn replied to your post.

Star offering him a cigarette tbh.

Takes the tiny little stub of nicotine between his massive claws, sniffs of it, shrugs, and just —

— eats it.

"Thanks, that helped." Said in a flat, tired monotone; he's not being serious whatsoever. Mortal substances hardly affected him, least of all when consumed incorrectly like that...

[false-majesty]

New Life Philosophy Unlocked:

"Everyone I've ever cared for is dead, so there's no longer any reason for this Universe to continue to exist," harsher words have hardly been spoken, but it's the truth. He's doubling down on killing and consuming everything, by whatever means possible.

Bitter? Perhaps. Lonely? Most definitely. Healthy? Certainly not!

[false-majesty]

Oh Gods, this bastard again! Aku's pinching the bridge of his nose between his claws, and Bill's hardly spoken 10 words to him!

"Bill — must we do this every time I meet a new version of you in the multiverse? You're omnipotent, right? Surely you know we've done this half a dozen times by now..."

— Or something like that. Only one or two of said encounters had resulted in any sort of lasting relationship, either positive or negative. The others had been a triangular thorn in Aku's figurative side.

"What do you want." It's not posed as a question. Rather, it was more of a demand. A demand to be through of this tedium and whittle down to the heart of the matter. Bills only ever wanted one thing in Aku's experience, so let's see if this one was the same as his counterparts...

@false-majesty gets a collaborator

"WELL WELL WELL WELL WELL. AKU HIMSELF. BIG FAN."

[false-majesty]

Exquisite I am, perfect unity On my left hand is false majesty.

Rules | About | Tags | Mun Leashed by COBALT.

[false-majesty]

@talessculpted semi-plotted, for Spring.

The demon's monolithic shadow crept ever-closer to the perimeter of the Valley of Thorns.

The field in which he stood stirred with a breath of wind from the North. Leaves twisted past him on the breeze, and so too the faint scent of wet Earth; it had recently rained, and these impulses carried far from the adjacent forest. The Valley of Thorns is quiet and dead, a stark contrast to the ever-flourishing lifesource hidden — no, imprisoned! — deep within.

Shortly into his self-described ascension, Aku had familiarized himself with the mythos of several Earthly cultures. After all, it behooved a young God to know those who might impede his reign of Evil. And one such deity he'd learned of, who had up to this point eluded him, was supposedly imprisoned here... The Goddess of Spring, whose responsibility was the rejuvenation of life after the Great Death of Winter.

According to Legend, she had had to be contained for her over-enthusiasm. It was possible to have too much of a good thing, and her unchecked freedom had resulted in a cancerous outgrowth that very nearly choked the life it had meant to encourage. Seeing this, the other Seasons combined their whims and imprisoned her here — where she could still work her magic in a limited respect, but where she herself was leashed.

It was... a kindred story, in a way. Aku could relate to the sentiment of being caged by the Gods, for destructive tendencies. But far be it for him to free her without some kind of give-and-take.

No, what had interested him about her was the infinite well of life she could provide him. All Gods relied on mortals in some form or fashion, and Aku was no different. Most deities would use the prayers of their followers to bolster their powers, but Aku's methods were a bit more... direct, shall we say. He fed upon mortal souls to fuel his powers, and to grow stronger. Thusly, a source of infinite life would in turn mean a source of infinite power. She could run amok, and he would just clean up the mess she left behind — gorge himself on her creations until he were nigh upon omnipotent. He only hoped she might find those terms agreeable, and that the other Gods — upon seeing this accord — wouldn't see fit to once again impede them both.

With an sigh of resolve, the Beast's form destabilized and shivered, receded upon itself grotesquely, and he momentarily reemerged from the liquid essence in the guise of a wild boar — better suited to push his way through the encroaching bramble in front of him.

He gave a piggish snort and trotted forward. The bramble pulled and ripped at his flesh like a living thing as he forged onward, as if it were trying to impede him from reaching his prize deep within its heart — rather than keeping said prize from the world without. Perhaps, thought the great demon with no small amusement, it was a smidge of both. Still, his essence simply parted like water round the thorns and he passed ghostlike through their midst.

Now, in the thick of vines the only sound is the crunch of them beneath his hooves, for no other living things were in this dead place. Indeed, the vines themselves hardly seemed to be 'alive' — rather, they felt like projections of the Earth, almost like rocks. Placed here, whim'd here, rather than grown naturally. So much like himself, when his essence was stricken into the Earth and he had sprouted forth like the great roots of a burned tree.

He walked deeper into the thorny labyrinth, sensing intuitively that the vines were thickening like an impenetrable wall around what he perceived to be the middle of the Valley. Here and there at his feet, bright green grass sprouted and then just as quickly died when it met his touch.

So then, there was some basis of truth in the traveler's legends.

At last, he pushed forward into an open clearing, and he was keenly aware of the transition from black, clutching thorns to soft, tender and young plantlife. The light seemed to shimmer and waver before his eyes, like the essence of Life was in the very air itself.

The demon threw his head back and emitted a terrifying sound, something which hybridized the scream of a falcon, the hoot of a monkey, and the snarling bark of a dog. The shimmering air receded, as if shied.

Now all he had to do... was wait.