godricofgaul

[godricofgaul]

twu bwud 🩸

[godricofgaul]

“if you need me for anything, anything at all, i’m only a crystal ball away.”

Dark brows creased on a deathly pale face. The stranger spoke in a way that the ancient presumed was not literal--- although he had his fair experience with those who may wield power through an object such as a crystal ball. It was more important to ask: what would he need?

The expression on his face shifted enough to display a sense of curiosity-- something that had managed to remain intact for centuries. " I do not even know you, " he countered.

[godricofgaul]

Sorry I went MIA. I stopped taking my meds.

[godricofgaul]

With an eerily quiet grace, the vampire manuvered to serve his guest a glass of the fresh tea in front of them. "This has always interested me," he commented. "Tea is more ancient than I am and it is a staple in nearly every culture." He places the glass in front of her before taking a seat at the low table. "But you did not come here to discuss this." Godric was willing to withhold assumption that the halfling was asked here at the favor of his concerned and stubborn progeny.

A kindness to inquire after his wellbeing----- a question he did not often receive. Godric nodded. He folded his pale hands in his lap. "Yes, I am okay." A pause lingered in the room. "I do not think that you came to ask about my health, though."

Godric had never been anything but hospitable to her. She didn't think what she had done in Dallas had been the work of a hero. All she had really done was snuck into the church (got herself caught in the process mind you) to try to find out if Godric was being held captive. Truth be told, he seemed to be more in control than anyone else thought he had been. She might have been brave for standing up for vampire rights against a bunch of stake-wield Christians, but that was about it. Still, she was apparently thought highly of by Eric's maker. It was nice to be held in high regard; a flattering feeling.

❝ Yeah, tea sounds nice, ❞ she replied with a smile. ❝ It's nice to see you, too. Are you doing okay? ❞ Sookie thought she would ask, trying to be as discreet as possible while delving into his psyche. In Dallas, he wasn't exactly fighting for his life, more willing to succumb to death for some insane reason she nor Eric could figure out.

[godricofgaul]

The vampire was no stranger to violence against one's own kind---- human or vampire. As a human, he had been brutalized by other men, and as a vampire he had been hunted by both the living and the dead.

He turned his attention to the detailed runes etched on the floor, not immediately recognizing them. Turning his head enough to peer at them more closely, Godric decided that they must comprise an alphabet--- an ancient one. No stranger to the power of symbolism, he crouched in the dirt and curiously wiped at the edge of the closest image. It came away easily enough to satisfy his hesitation.

"Angels must keep to themselves then," he ventured while continuing to scratch at the symbol. "If you are a target for capture." Yet here they both were, captured. "Most kinds have a quarrel with my own, and justifiably so," he looked up from his work to grin. "So are these." The elongated fangs still protruding from his top lip.

He stopped scratching to examine the results. What was once the painted shape was now dirt packed beneath his nails. Godric looked at the angel again, expectently.

"Mostly by my own kind. Occasionally by hunters." A tiny smile in response to that amused brow. It was by no means easy to trap an angel, and even harder to keep one contained in the long-term. A hunter would have to be very lucky, and one had to wonder at their luck, given that he'd obviously escaped. He was confident heaven wasn't behind this one, at least.

"Our outlook seems to be improving by the minute," he agreed. Freeing and healing the vampire was a positive start. He didn't fancy staying inside the circle until their captors returned, though, given the option. He nodded toward the painted symbols. The Enochian was worded specifically to contain heavenly power, so it should have no effect on any other kind of being. "I would be grateful if you could break this trap. A scratch through one of the symbols would do it."

It was a reasonable enough response. The Bible got that much right-- people's first reactions to heavenly power were usually fear. Angels weren't benevolent, fluffy-winged, harp-playing guides. They were warriors of heaven. "I assure you, I have no quarrel with you or your kind. And those are merely for show these days." The light faded along with the shadow of his scorched wings, until it was just a middle-aged man in a trench coat standing before him again.

[godricofgaul]

His chosen warehouse remained abandoned. It was too decrepit for most human occupants but that hadn't prevented a handful of delinquent teens or the underserved to use it ocassionally, and much to their misfortune when they were caught.

Taking her jacket, he stood in stony silence as his companion appeared to easily draw upon her power to produce the shield of flame from her hands. Perhaps a cautious vampire would not have bore witness to a display of the one element that could cause irreparable damage to them. His people--- his human people--- had been ones who worshipped the water they made their home upon, yet Godric had little fear of fire even in life.

He blinked a few times, clearing his current cache of thoughts to process her question. With no certain answer to offer, he provided the first example that came to mind, "a stag."

There was an bubbling sensation of gleeful excitement in Shiloh's chest. A feeling that came not just from the eagerness to actually play with her flames for the first time in years. But from the knowledge she was going against her purpose and bringing joy to someone with her power. A small sampling of her flames had already coaxed out one of Godric's rare smiles. Shiloh wondered what a larger display might earn her.

By the time they finally reached the warehouse, Shiloh could feel her fire flickering wildly in her soul. Burning to be released. She was unbothered by the darkness in the building. She figured Godric could see fine and Shiloh herself had better sight in the dark than a normal mortal. Plus, there would be plenty of light soon.

Shiloh took off her jacket and handed it to Godric. Then took a few steps away from him. Holding her hands in front of herself, Shiloh called forth her fire. A glowing orb with circumference of a tire engulfed her hands and forearms. "I don't suppose you have a favorite animal?"

[godricofgaul]

"am I a nicki fan?!"

[godricofgaul]

“why would i share information about an ongoing investigation with a vampire?” from Ruth

"You wouldn't." The very same vampire leered. "There are ways for me to get the information I seek, however. I prefer to utilize them sparingly."

[godricofgaul]

He holds the blade tenderly cradled in his open palms, the way one might a baby animal, unsure what move to make next for concern of appearing distrusting of others with his possessions. This may be the singular possession which Godric would feel any need to protect. It did an immortal man no good to be materialistic. However, he did appreciate the clear attentiveness she paid to the moment. "There likely is nothing like it," he agreed. "Unless you consider the merits of A Tragedy in Black, but that is a folk tale and is often considered an inaccurate account from a young boy who went mad after a Dremora encounter." Although Godric would not count himself among those who discredit folklore--- he was a folk tale, and yet there was some truth to the stories told in his wake.

"Time moves forward, as it has no choice, yet what happens in its confines does not evolve at such a quick pace." He replaces the blade with deft hands at his belt, disappearing as fast as it had materialized. "This is both a blessing and a curse," he supposed aloud. Wincing slightly at his quick choice of the word, and hoping that this did not offend. Surprising himself at making a potential impasse where normally he would not concern himself with a poor word when he regularly commits more sinful acts.

It was not possible for him to share sympathy with a mother's endless worries for her children--- he hardly cared for the wellbeing of anyone--- yet he found himself shaking his head. "I am willing to believe that your children would not forsake you, and may Arkay take no pity on those who harm them."

She is no stranger to the unsheathing of a blade, no matter who it comes from. Her mother has raised her to be brave-hearted, insisted that she must be to survive what this world may throw at her, yet she does not feel a single note of genuine threat. He is the first vampire she has encountered, and though the two have forever been touted as mortal enemies from when they drew their first breath, she feels entirely at ease around him. Anne wonders, idly, if she is a little too trusting, though it is part of the territory of her work.

Never turn down those in need, and never offer an ear that is deaf. He moves closer, and Anne shifts so there is room for him to sit again. It is a beautifully carved blade, and not a style she has ever seen in person, nor read in the heavy tomes that kept a too-eager mind at ease when it wanted to see the world. A hand lift and a finger brushes against the flat edge of the blade. "It's beautiful. I have never seen a thing like it." She does not move to disguise the childlike fascination in her eyes, nor the almost gormless part of her mouth. "I feel as though we have lost plenty of importance to time, where so many are keen to move into the new ages."

It is nothing simple, either, for she can think of endless speculations she has heard or read about in her twenty-something namedays, and recounts the crossness of a far younger Anne who had, ultimately, decided that people were foolish for not writing down their every thought. Especially when there were quills by the armful, tucked in the crevices and crannies of all sorts of places!

A part of her still clings hopefully to that bitterness, as though it would offer up something that might slake her curiosity. To this day, nothing ever really has.

"By the Eight, if they inherited my wanderlust, I have little doubt I will be spending many evenings eagerly and anxiously awaiting their returns. I have seen it before in the mothers of adventurers who have left to seek their fortune and scarcely offer them the consideration of a note or letter."

[godricofgaul]

He was still preocccupied with the study of his newly healed skin, examining the places the stranger's light had touched to find any lingering side effects. Godric knew of only a small rarity of creatures who possessed the ability to heal others, and most of them had gone extinct. He also knew of an even smaller percentage of those who could emit a light source from their bodies, but this one did not smell quite the same---- although he did smell undeniably interesting.

"You have been captured often?" He sketched a brow, somewhere between amused and curious. Of course, someone with power of this magnitude--- and Godric felt justified in assuming that he had only witnessed a sliver of that power thus far--- would be hunted by those who feared it. "We have survived until this point, and I have yet to discover a reason why we will not this time," he said around his elongated fangs.

What he beheld next was practically unlike any sight that the vampire had seen in numerous centuries. He felt compelled to step back as those phantom, monstrous appendages grew from the back of the being taking the shape of wings. Not quite the bird-like wings of the harpies, these were more ethereal more... biblical. "If my heart was capable of racing, I trust that it would be," he whispered. Few things struck real fear in him, but Godric began to think this night may bring his reckoning.

@godricofgaul

"Our captors were counting on it." Castiel supposed they could always try it the old-fashioned way, with blood instead of magic, but he didn't see why one should fail where the other succeeded. He didn't truly believe that either would hurt the vampire. As far as he knew, they weren't damned, or subject to the rules of heaven or hell at all. Monsters (for lack of a better word) went to purgatory, which was still a kinder fate than where angels went. One encounter with the Empty was plenty of motivation to want to stay alive. But then, Cas was finding, there were a great many things he hadn't known before today.

"I have never tried to in mine, which now seems like an oversight." In his defense, he hadn't spent a lot of time on Earth up until the last decade or so, and his first encounters were with hunters. They didn't exactly get on well with vampires, but with a greater enemy, anything was possible. Castiel could sense all the wounds, so that seemed like a good sign. If he was aware of them, it followed that he would be able to heal them. If it worked on him, he would see the flesh start to knit painlessly back together, wounds closing over as if they'd never been there.

"I suppose if there is to be some trust between us, it is only fair that we be on even footing." His eyes glowed white as he let some of that heavenly power well to the surface. Only a little, the sight of his true form--many-winged and the size of the Chrysler building--would incinerate a human, and he wasn't positive even a powerful vampire would fare much better. The shadow of his wings flared out on the floor behind him, now ragged and tattered from his fall.

[godricofgaul]

He walks beside her, his movements light and graceful. It's dark enough that there are few people on the street--- ones who are living, at least. At this hour, most who are still up can be found in the district boasting most of the nightlife, not likely to notice two who step from the library.

He presses his hand to his heart, feining embarassment. "Forgive my misjudgement. It was not my intention to suggest that you are not a very professional arsonist." A smirk. "----- An artist, even." The light from the butterfly casts a glow on his pallid features momentarily. The smirk growing just enough to reveal his anticipation as they approach an empty warehouse.

"Pft." Shiloh's amused huff was basically as close as she got to a laugh. "If it makes you feel better," She picked up the book she'd previously been reading then slipped her arm through Godric's. "I much prefer your voice to Siri's."

As they neared the exit, Shiloh placed her book on the librarian's return cart. Rebel as she may be, she still had an appreciation for some forms of neatness and order.

It's not until the chilled night air hits them that Shiloh promises, "There will be no arson. And if there was, I'm offended you think I'm amateur enough to let it get linked back to us." As it was a fun way to prove her point (and the street was empty), Shiloh summoned another butterfly from her fire. It fluttered in quick circle around their heads before flickering out.

[godricofgaul]

Is tumblr returning to its roots of bots and porn

[godricofgaul]

@sookiestackhcuse ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ

He had a fondness for the halfing. Perhaps because she had shown him a kindness at his lowest, and perhaps it was because she had taken his request to look after Eric seriously when he knew that it was beyond his right to even ask. And now she appeared to him again, and the vampire hoped that it would present an opportunity for him to repay her.

"Miss Stackhouse," he greeted quietly. Hardly a change in his appearance since they had last seen each other----- not that there had been significant change in this regard in 2 millennia. "I am pleased to see you again. Can I offer you some tea?" He gestured to a platter on the shiny table as he lead her to a pair of armchairs.

[godricofgaul]

It was interesting the way in which water interacted with his body posthumously, as if the element recognized that he was no longer completely organic. That there was something unnatural about him. The other elements did not seem to care either way--- fire would still burn his flesh, the earth was still solid beneath his feet, air allowed him to enter its space like a bird. Godric played lying prone, looking disturbingly drowned, sinking like a stone. In fact, he had at one point in his endeavors to test the limits of his immortality, drew in a lungful of water only to find that the only effect was that his body would forcefully eject it through his mouth and nose. It had been uncomfortable enough for him to avoid additional attempts.

As his companion approached, Godric peered above the water line like an aquatic predator stalking its prey. He was about as clean as he could possibly be, but had no desire to get out. He noticed the pile of stolen clothing on the bank, no doubt carefully selected in regards to his presentation. Godric had existed in a state of feral undress for the centuries leading up to his encounter with this Prince, and since had it impressed upon him that dressing the part was a skill he had yet to learn.

He watched the place where Eric dove underwater, swirls of muddy blood staining the inky surface. While his childe began the process of cleaning, Godric realized he had more precious moments to spend here and spotted the thin undulating form of a harmless snake making its way across the water. He only spared the time for an impish grin as he waded toward it and coaxed it into his grasp before redirecting its path toward Eric. "I've sent you help!" he called devilishly as the snake shimmered in the moonlight.

A little while longer Eric appeared. Following the scent of his maker towards the water, he rushed in the same direction, slowing to a halt when he reached the edge of the river. Where he casually dropped a bundle of clothes he had brought with him. Thinking there must be something in there that Godric could wear. It was a different case for him. Considering his height most clothes he stole were too short for him. Or didn't fit him at all. He made do with what he could though and he had brought some items he could wear for the time being.

Stripping bare, his long arms were covered in dirt, his face still a bloody mess. He waded into the water until he could dive in, swimming a few feet before breaching the surface once more. He knew his maker was near so he resisted the urge to playfully shake his wet hair like a dog. He focused on cleaning his body instead.

[godricofgaul]

"As if I am a personal navigation device." His attempt at snark----- clearly a trait that had been aged out of him. A stone which was once jagged enough to cut, now smoothed with time. Although, there was more truth to this statement than he led her to believe; vampires were peternaturally gifted with an instinctual sense of direction. Plus, he knew this city's topography expertly.

Despite the fact that he could make himself quite impossible to move if he wanted, Godric rose at her behest. He was quite eager to witness what she was implying. "As long as you agree that we are at no risk of burning the place down. I cannot imagine that arson is something the AVL would appreciate a Sheriff being tied to, and the League is quite irritated by my behaviors already."

Shiloh dropped her arms back to her sides and flashed Godric a smirk over her shoulder. “Well it’s rude to make assumptions about people isn’t it?” She teased back. “I am glad I lucked upon an expert though.”

The copper haired woman turned to fully face the vampire, leaned down to grasp his wrists, and urged him to stand with a light pull. “You taking me is easier then trying to remember directions.”

Impishness glittered in Shiloh’s blue eyes. Her voice also dropped to a playful whisper. “And I figured you’d want to see what my flames can do when I have space.”

[godricofgaul]

Starters and replies are c0ming (:

Just work burnout things

[godricofgaul]

In honor of it being like 10 years since I participated in a munday here’s how tall I’d be compared to a cow (i think it’s a conspiracy DONT @ me how do ppl tip these things tho??)