#NO LIKEY PONTIFF DNFNFNDMDNDN

[lockawayknight]

Sulyvahn or Crow (for Dark Souls verse.... even if they haven't really interacted there but 🤷🏻‍♂️)

from make my muse choose who to kill [accepting!!]

|| @umtplex

“Sulyvahn.” It’s said with such a bizarrely specific sort of disgust — the kind a man could only harbour for one such as the Pontiff — Creighton hardly sounds like himself as he says it. He sounds sassier, pettier, like someone spreading the gossip of the century around a wishing well. The name sounds utterly vulgar on his tongue, taboo and terrible, said like something that would make a gathered crowd gasp in shock and horror.

Yeah, there’s no question about it.

“Don’t even matter who the second party is,” he continues. “Hell, wha’ I wouldn’t give to ‘ave tha’ goddamn thorn Sulyvahn outta my side. Watch me kick ‘is stupid ‘ead in. I’ll stomp those ugly branches inna the marble floor, make ‘em splinter ‘round the room. I’ll take tha’ fiery sword a’ his an’ shove it so far up ‘is skinny li’l arse it comes clean out the other ugly end. I wanna see tha’ bastard bleed. I’d kill ‘im for a single prism stone. Hell, y’don’t even needa pay me; I’ll do it for fun.”

A flip of the hand; a shrug of the shoulders. “To be honest, though, I figure anyone would say the same thing if they were asked whether or not they’d kill their landlord. I’ll take the house, thanks very much; the Abyss can take the man whose land it happens to be built on — haw.”