#Tursidhion

[kelzthalassunwhisper]

Dull, yet throbbing pain soon filled the place of that haze in her mind as her good hand worked its way towards her temple. Plated digits gently kneaded the skin of her now furrowed brow while she listened to Lord Felscythe speak. Eyes were still trained to his form as he retreated and spoke to her of her poor choices which she would now reevaluate. In all honesty, she had no wishes to exhaust yet another fruitless venture in semantics or arguments. That was a game best played by those who refined their tongues to be as sharp as blades. Something she began to distinctly acknowledge with Nixalegos here.

"There are greater concerns than that of my whereabouts and doings. But I won't dismiss that my choice in ethics tonight was… unprofessional and callous. I believe there is a saying, something about… good intentions pave the road to hell, or something?"

A slow lift at the corner of her mouth was made to humor his teasing, but it likely was forced as most conversations were. It was a trying process to be dependable and reputable within Sin'dorei society. And it was exhausting to put any life on the line only to be so easily replaced or forgotten any over time. Such were the woes of being a Silvermoon Guardian.

"It is your place to do what you will with the recordings then. But I wouldn't mind the company, I suppose."

Regardless of what former ill-will she had towards him had now been completely dismissed. She didn't feel she had done any wrong by coming to the Ghostlands to challenge the Sanguine Sorceress. And while it was an act of hubris to seek such an evil audience, she knew the outcome would not have gone in her favor anyway. Another saying she often applied to herself - 'without bad luck, I wouldn't have any luck at all.'

After donning her bloodied gauntlet and making away from the altar, she began to think on how to regale her affairs with the Sanguine Sorceress.

"It all started with the Juggernaut. An unstoppable force of rage and power, a machine of death if you will. He brought terror to Silvermoon's gates on par with that of the Third War. But he could do so alone and his threat was only amplified by the power and hand of the Sanguine Sorceress. I had witnessed them there," she stated as a finger moved back towards the altar to provide emphasis.

"I watched her perform a ritual when I came to confront him. Her soft words seemed to be the only voice he could hear despite my protests. No matter how much I wanted to bargain and plead, it was she who pulled the strings. It was she who commanded authority over him."

Her hand fell while the memory of the Juggernaut surfaced and she felt his armored hand grasp at her throat. The strength behind his grasp would seek to crush any that opposed him or his sorceress. And had it not been for the striking resemblance of a former lover, that encounter might have ended on a deadly note.

Reality crept back into view as she knew each day was made with borrowed time.

"Yet her influence still lingers. It pulls at me like the taut threads of unchanging fate that make up the spokes in a proverbial wheel of time. Her network might seem small, but it's vast. Every act she performs does not require a grand show, but the performance still happens all the same."

While she didn't have the clarity of memories to detail her encounters precisely, they had happened all the same. It likely made the Commander sound as if she was mad and raving, but to boast about the supernatural did have that aesthetic in dialect. And at this point, she wasn't certain it was so much an effort to convince Lord Felscythe that it occurred as it was to explain her understanding of the events.

@nixalegos

Mentions: @sanguinesorceress @tursidhion-felomelorn

@allasticus [\o/ for family]

A little wrong done right.

Continued from HERE "Probably the fact I'm still recording you saying this." He chided her, coming to take a slow step back, in equal parts to her coming forward to take the stone. Drunk and upset people did strange things. But he relaxed a hair as she used the healthstone as instructed. Watching as the pilfered and congealed mass of stolen vitality was given onto them, erasing their silly would be sacrificial wound. "You are, naturally, free to attempt to besmirch and deceive the Magistry against a civilian with a substantial record of heroics, cooperation, and who's own wife is a Blood Knight Master of our beloved city of Quel'Thalas." He edified. "I'm sure the courts would be very lenient, given your position Commander." He teased as the sudden eradication of booze in their veins struck them with an instant hangover. Oops. "Why don't we wander down from this place, and I get you back to the local garrison. You can watch me ensure the recordings...disappear in exchange for a history lesson between you and the conniving bitch." He offered, taking another step back, and cast a glance at the altar, marked with sic and blood. The shimmer of a shivarra vanished back into the cloak of invisibility. The Geist that had nearly managed to strike at the drunken elf safely dispatched and quietly let to slump behind the altar, unseen. Two gargoyles. A Geist. A ghost. Remains tucked behind bushes, and decaying scrubplants. Left to flake as much as the ethereal dust of his healthstone had crumbled to. Blood was the echo of a heartbeat. A heartbeat was sound. Sound was a language. Language bore words. And words...were power. Because despite their best efforts at melodrama. Malakortana was not actually the dead womans name. And with no proper entity to fill the siren call of spilled life and innocent power in this dead place, all sorts of nameless dead things came, and would continue to come, all eager to play the role of 'Mala' if it meant even a drop of life, a moments respite. The hooded man had taken advantage of their drunken stupor and distraction away from the dangers they'd inadvertently called. "I'm just looking out for number one." He lied. "I've some history with them too."

@kelzthalassunwhisper

[safrona-shadowsun]

And, for the lol's. Halloween Pick-up Lines: "Come to the Ghostlands, Safrona. Trick or treat at my place is to die for." (Sid)

Halloween Pick Up Line Starters!

It was a bad joke indeed Safrona noted, unnerved at the unorthodox invitation. Sick, even. That someone would dare send her a postcard from a snowing Tranquillien set with lit pumpkins, and sign his name to it like some promotional stunt. “…I really hope someone hasn’t decided to try to make the Juggernaut an attraction this year. He won’t be pleased…”

She paused as her thoughts drove to a disturbing possibility of being chased through some dilapidated house or damned vineyard maze with the Dreadnaught on the hunt, stalking slowly, surely, for more souls to add to his collection. “Nope!” Safrona tried to tell that imagery, a lick of Felflame suddenly rushing from her fingers to consume the sick invitation. “Good luck, Sid, but nope!”

{Art Source}

{ @elibraddock / @tursidhion-felomelorn }

[sanguinesorceress]

Send me “ § “ and I’ll create a quote about your character from my muse. -- Tursidhion

“He paved the cobbled road to her heart by hand, and upon discovering she lacked one entirely, carved out his own and left it there, crushing every stone underfoot as he walked away.”

@tursidhion-felomelorn

[tursidhion-felomelorn]

Howling Winds of Denial

[ Ambiance ]

Covenants... Truces...

Allegiances and Alliances...

The transcendent frost colossus needed none of them and for every representative that dared touch his icy kingdom; they were left as chilled reminders for those that sought to tread afterward. Sparkles of frozen molecules glistened off the torn limbs and stretches of rimed flesh that lined the perimeter of his arctic empire.

Much of his era was spent in suspended hibernation, but the time had come. His slumber had became disturbed once again...

The macabre and soul-speckled runeblade buried into the permafrost between his feet was ripped forth with violent intention. The groaning of bone and platemail resounded his discontent as the legendary behemoth rose from his polar throne.

A face split between what was once the heroic features of a blood knight master and the damnable state of necromancy that carved up his being now pulsed with the sight of azure carnage. Strands of matted black and crimson-stained globules draped over the expansive shoulders. On top of it all the bone crown wrapped with dead thorns marked his rank of king among the abominations and creations around his decayed land.

He now marched forth with the tip of his old weapon cutting up the ground beneath. The ominous echo of its hunger resonating like a starving beast on the hunt. A glacial drop in temperature enacted quickly around his proximity causing the atmosphere to formulate snowflakes and specks of frost that announced his arrival. His remorseless winter had begun and with such a hypothermic presence nothing living or breathing managed to survive.

He had grown irritated with their provocations, their trespassing, and consistent disrespect of his presence. No more would he tolerate the Covenants. He was not of the Horde. He was not of the Alliance. Their wars were not his own. He had defied Old Gods and Titans, shattered Cults and Factions, and broken the wills and bodies of thousands more.

Now, he has the constant whisperings of 'death should never be chained' reverberating like a mad hymn to join the cause. His gauntlet clenched against the pommel of his great blade. He was no one's puppet and so he stood at the edge of his kingdom with a challenge poised to the source.

"Then break your chains and feel what it means to bleed again."  

[gravekeeper-anna]

The Gravekeeper’s Habits

Italics - a sometime truth

Bold - a constant truth

1. smoking: the action or habit of inhaling and exhaling the smoke of tobacco or a drug.

2. binge drinking: the consumption of an excessive amount of alcohol in a short period of time.

3. drug abuse: the habitual taking of illegal drugs.

4. nail biting: a common body language sign of anxiety/tension.

5. lip biting: a common body language sign of anxiety/tension.

6. night owl: a person who is habitually active or wakeful at night.

7. early bird: a person who rises, arrives, or acts before the usual or expected time.

8. negative attitudes: a philosophy of approaching life with criticism & pessimism.

9. positive attitudes: a philosophy of approaching life with optimism & confidence.

10. swearing: the use of offensive language.

11. superstitious: an irrational belief that an object, action, or circumstance not logically related to a course of events influences its outcome.

12. inspecting fingernails: a common body language sign of boredom.

13. scratching your neck: a common body language sign of uncertainty.

14. foot and finger tapping: a common body language sign of stress/impatience.

15. nose touch: a subtle body language sign of deceit.

16. flipping hair: a common body language sign of craving attention.

17. twirling hair: a common body language sign of flirtation.

18. cracking knuckles/fingers: a common body language sign of readiness.

19. hands behind back: a common body language sign of confidence.

20. finger pointing: a common body language sign of authority.

21. hands on hips: a common body language sign of readiness.

22. hands in pockets: a common body language sign of mistrust/reluctance.

23. frequent touch: a common body language sign of warmth/familiarity.

24. throat - clearing: a common body language sign of rejection/doubt.

25. jaw - clenching: a common body language sign of hostility.

26. eye - rolling: a common body language sign of irritation.

27. head - tilt: a common body language sign of interest.

28. whistling: to emit high - pitched sound by forcing breakthrough a small hole between one’s lips or teeth; usually to a tune.

29. humming: make a low, steady continuous sound like that of a bee; usually to a tune.

30. perfectionism: refusal to accept any standard short of perfection.

31. photographic memory: the ability to remember information or visual images in great detail.

32. paranoia: a mental condition characterized by delusions of persecution, unwarranted jealousy, or exaggerated self - importance, typically worked into an organized system.

33. exaggeration: a statement that represents something as better or worse than it really is.

34. intuitive: using or based on what one feels to be true even without conscious reasoning; instinctive.

35. quick - witted: showing or characterized by an ability to think or respond quickly & effectively.

36. interrupting: breaking the continuity of a conversation with one’s own statements.

37. doodling: to scribble or make rough drawings, absentmindedly.

38. irritable: having or showing a tendency to be easily annoyed.

39. gambling: to play games of chance for money; bet.

40. travelsick: suffering from nausea caused by the motion of a moving vehicle, boat, or aircraft.

41. sensitive: having or displaying a quick & delicate appreciation of others’ feelings.

42. melancholy: a feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no obvious cause.

43. chewing gum: the exercise of chewing flavored gum which is not intended for swallowing.

44. fidgeting: to make small movements, especially of the hands & feet, through nervousness or impatience.

45. skeptical: not easily convinced; having doubts or reservations.

46. neat - freak: compulsively obsessed with cleanliness.

47. gossiping: divulging personal information about others.

48. prim: feeling or showing disapproval of anything regarded as improper; stiffly correct.

49. abbreviating: giving others nicknames/shortening names/giving pet names.  

50. having a catchphrase: having a sentence or phrase typically associated with a specific person.

Tagged By: @ladysoulthorn​ - Thank you!

Tagging: @duraxxor​ @sanguinesorceress​ @thewraithbinder​ @tursidhion-felomelorn​ @monster-of-master​ @snowfallen-nymph​ @theconstructsworld​ - and many more, if you might like!

[sanguinesorceress]

@tursidhion-felomelorn

Army of Rust by Stefan Koidl

[unabashedrebel]

👌 …someone my muse has only met once, but will never forget.

“Uh, easy. Turshi-..shi..shiskabab. I don’t know how to say his name, but the last name makes me think he used to be pretty important, at least when he was among the living. Now I don’t consider myself the type to scare easy, persay, but man I pretty much needed to change my pants. Rust can attest for that. I simply call him Juggs.”

( Thanks @felonous and mentions @tursidhion-felomelorn )

[kelzygosa]

The Crystalsong Dilemma [Sneak Peak]

Rampant was the growing discord of Crystalsong. Had it not been for the unleashed card and the secret motives of Serea, the party might have had some form of order. But now there were more problems than there was a solution. The beings that inhabited the area had been drawn to the chaos, unbound by the exposure of the ley line that lay stretched across Azeroth’s surface. It was honestly hard to say what to focus on and Alicion would find herself getting a feel for the area. Without much thought to his actions, Masiun had struck out against Draezan.

As holy magic scorched the man, there was a brief moment his disguise failed. Blue scales accentuated his face as a dangerous looking eye emerged with a narrowed slit. However, he had a purpose to carry out and Serea would make certain he remembered to stay on task. After all, Kelzygosa and Masiun were not a threat he wished to contend with right now. The blade he held was now turned and positioned forward having noticed Oteph’s disarmed figure. While it did take the Feral a moment to get her bearings, the Dragon was not inclined to wait. He would take that best shot as the end of his blade dug through sensitive flesh. “Consider your burden gone…”

The sword that had been enchanted by the lucrative workings of Draezan and Serea resulted in a drastic change in power. Having drawn blood from Oteph, Crystalsong had experienced a strange flux in power. Serea watched the forests’ magic quickly be stifled by that of squelching fel magic. Brilliant purple and pink auras started to dull, a darkness spreading from the growing expansion of the fel circle beneath Oteph. But it demanded more…

Draezan, having been blindly manipulated by Serea, was now caught within the same net that Oteph was a part of. The red head smirked from her place of hiding when Draezan shot her a look of instant hatred. “YOU TRICKED ME!” His voice bellowed to the place where Serea hid and she slowly exposed herself from her hiding place.

“I have much greater plans for you, my dear Draezan.” The red-headed vixen addressed Alicion and offered a dangerous smile.

With the surge of evil magic at play, Alicion was not about to let the forest be tainted by that of Serea’s doing. Taking a stance akin to that of a battle mage, she held her arms up and adjusted the placement of her feet to compose draconic blue dragon rune circles beneath her. Each azure digit illuminated and spoke of a request to the ley line beneath her. And while it was not immediate, the pink and purple hues seemed to flicker – offering that ominous promise that corruption could not simply win.

Serea’s expression changed to that of annoyance and she strode towards Draezan. “TRANSFORM INTO YOUR TRUE FORM!” Having no free will of his own, Draezan succumbed to the weaving of fel magic, his mortal body shredded apart as the once blue dragon emerged, tainted by fel magic and corruption.

This was about the time that Serea had heard the massacre within the party perimeters. As to what lay inside there, she was greatly curious. And even more so impressed by the promise it had offered. “Kill them,” she stated to the now mature fel dragon of Draezan.

With that crowned head of darkened scales facing Masiun and Alicion, she found herself in a compromised position. Crystalsong Forest would continue to be tainted by the presence of the Fel Dragon unless it was defeated – but if she surrenders her hold on the ley line – that could happen even exponentially quicker. “Masiun, I cannot move from here. In order for balance to be maintained, I will need your help more than ever.”

Her attention slowly drifted to where Oteph was and she noted the runes illuminated in the sword that rest in her body. “The sword,” she’d mention to Masiun, prior to the distracting sound of the angry fel dragon. Fiery glands started to expand in the maw of the dragon before fel fire started to ignite – showering the place where Alicion and Masiun stood. As a sign of this fiery breath’s destruction – grass and crystallized rock melted or were disintegrated by its touch. There was only hope placed in Masiun for now to protect them.

Serea had somehow found her way back into the humble abode that once celebrated the fake reunion of dragonkin and dragonsworn alike. Seeing the plated behemoth before her, she couldn’t help but let her tongue trace over her bottom lip with growing eagerness. “My my… who left you all alone?”

@eurath @oteph-the-panther

[kelzthalassunwhisper]

Dear future me, & Dear past me,

Precognition was not something the Commander was versed in understanding. But the touch to the Warden Astheo's eyes had triggered one last temporal venture as the world froze yet again. But there was no Juggernaut this time to tower over her. And the raw emotion that had taken hold of her was about to erupt.

But a golden hand outstretched to settle on her shoulder. Warmth emanated from the contact of touch, rendering armor pointless to impede its invasive envelopment of the grief-stricken guardian and heiress. Slowly, her head raised to see her echo of salvation, a mirrored image of herself stood there as a golden gateway swirled behind her. A tethered chain of her true timeline was manifested from the center of this portal as it sank into her future self.

"Dear, Past Me... You are experiencing the most devastating moment in your life. But you were never wrong in believing or showing compassion to the Juggernaut. Your influence is measured by your unwillingness to surrender. And the outcome could still very much change. The two that he had slew, were aware of the possibility of this. And contingencies were their specialty afterall... One a warmage of soul cleaving and the other a master of time weaving. Do not be consumed by grief. You will fall into the Sanguine Sorceress's open hand and submit to the same cruel undoing's that befell her and the Juggernaut. Appeal to your family, Kal'ren and that... Nethermancer. But the path won't be easy. It's a marathon, not a sprint. And stop trying to find answers in a bottle... Because there won't be an answer there that you will like."

Weighed down by these words of wisdom and otherworldly knowledge, the Commander still rested on her bent knee. Her head was still kept upright as she tried to compose herself to understand what was being relayed.

"Future Me?... I can't ignore what happened. I..." The thought of her vow to Mallana again resurfaced like an unruly wave of guilt. It stopped her from challenging her future self and caused her breath to catch in her throat.

"You can do this, Past Me. But you have to either trust or fall. Don't surrender to this side of darkness, it still lives in you even when you don't call upon it."

The golden light in the gateway began to fade as the time had reached its limit. Rattling chains rang out, signaling the retreat of her future self, but the illusion of herself stood adamant despite the breaking of order's sacred law.

"Remember what I told you. You can and will save them."

@sanguinesorceress - thanks for the ask :3 I'm pretty pleased with this and don't regret waiting to answer it now. Bwahahaha! \o/ <3

@allasticus @grumpyoldfker @lazraelbandtherion @kalren-daelish - YOU ARE ALL MENTIONED. YEAH EVEN YOU LAZRAEL - EVEN THOUGH YOU'RE BEING BAD LIKE THE JUGGERNAUT HERE. \o/ @tursidhion-felomelorn / @elibraddock - mentions for Tursidhion, Eurath, and Astheo \o/ @nixalegos - mentions \o/

[kelzthalassunwhisper]

Words. They held power - a concept that men like himself and the sorceress took very seriously. But as a warrior herself, it was not as sharp as the blades she wielded. It wasn't power she sought to gain but one that she overlooked. She had thought more to express her thoughts and feelings given that conversation had been established. Two notions that were generally drowned with countless spirits as to make the world more tolerable. More accepting. More… livable. Her gaze softened as she acknowledged the remark she made carelessly and allowed her head to dip ever so slightly.

"I have bled. My bones have been broken. I've seen people die. Friends and foes alike. I've lost, I've gained. But ultimately… I live. And life can mean many things to people. To some it can be the end. Others it may be a new beginning. For me… It's what I have to do. For you… it's something else."

She pursed her lips, sinching whatever poorly conveyed words that might threaten to tumble after. Her gaze now was cast through the pitch of the woods - seeing no light to reveal the answers he so demanded from her. It made her wonder faintly what she could even say to amend her mistake, but mistakes were what she prevailed at.

"I cannot imagine what your life is like. It's not a perspective I would want to have. Though, it's what sets us apart. You can say what you want to my flaws, but they are the flaws I own and live with. And you… having the intellect that you do, made a calculated choice and would risk becoming associated with me. These words I speak are not meant to harm, but they are said sometimes without the merit of thought. For that, I am sorry."

She allowed the apology to hang there as she regarded the other sharp statements, he lobbed her way and exhaled again. The entrapment he felt was the same he corralled herself and others into to find leverage in any given situation. Did he feel remorse for it? Was that why he made the remark? Whatever the reasoning, she took into account his sense of agency and purpose. It should have been admirable. It should be acknowledged. It is his reputation. Yet the stones that were often cast at her found their way in the form of words that she spoke back to him. It was a different perspective. One she didn't have to fulfill or carry out. But it wasn't something she felt to thank him for, or rather… she couldn't. Like he admitted, he had to be worse than the evil in the world. Green eyes drifted down to the motion of his hand as the business card was offered to her. The presentation alone felt like accepting a contract and binding one's soul to eternal damnation. But there was no hesitation on the Commander's part as she reached to take it. Between plated digits, she regarded the illustration on its surface before lowering it out of view. The fel green eye still piercing her mind as if to say, "I'm watching you". Much like a naked women bathing, this was an unsettling thought. With the instructions relayed, she felt her eyebrow twitch at his parting words. Augur's Row. It was a place she had been quite familiar with but opted to only deal with because others couldn't. A repressed sigh left her as she watched him begin his advance back towards Deathholme. In a way it felt symbolic. Something of his character that otherwise would have been missed if she was still drunk. Again, the pained throb of her hangover surged, and she made a point to at least acknowledge him with one final word.

"…Understood."

@nixalegos - thanks for the scene :3 <3

@sanguinesorceress for your reading pleasure

@tursidhion-felomelorn say my name~ say my nameeee~ you acting kind of shady, calling me JUGGERNAUT

@allasticus family shenanigans \o/

A little wrong done right.

Continued from HERE "Probably the fact I'm still recording you saying this." He chided her, coming to take a slow step back, in equal parts to her coming forward to take the stone. Drunk and upset people did strange things. But he relaxed a hair as she used the healthstone as instructed. Watching as the pilfered and congealed mass of stolen vitality was given onto them, erasing their silly would be sacrificial wound. "You are, naturally, free to attempt to besmirch and deceive the Magistry against a civilian with a substantial record of heroics, cooperation, and who's own wife is a Blood Knight Master of our beloved city of Quel'Thalas." He edified. "I'm sure the courts would be very lenient, given your position Commander." He teased as the sudden eradication of booze in their veins struck them with an instant hangover. Oops. "Why don't we wander down from this place, and I get you back to the local garrison. You can watch me ensure the recordings...disappear in exchange for a history lesson between you and the conniving bitch." He offered, taking another step back, and cast a glance at the altar, marked with sic and blood. The shimmer of a shivarra vanished back into the cloak of invisibility. The Geist that had nearly managed to strike at the drunken elf safely dispatched and quietly let to slump behind the altar, unseen. Two gargoyles. A Geist. A ghost. Remains tucked behind bushes, and decaying scrubplants. Left to flake as much as the ethereal dust of his healthstone had crumbled to. Blood was the echo of a heartbeat. A heartbeat was sound. Sound was a language. Language bore words. And words...were power. Because despite their best efforts at melodrama. Malakortana was not actually the dead womans name. And with no proper entity to fill the siren call of spilled life and innocent power in this dead place, all sorts of nameless dead things came, and would continue to come, all eager to play the role of 'Mala' if it meant even a drop of life, a moments respite. The hooded man had taken advantage of their drunken stupor and distraction away from the dangers they'd inadvertently called. "I'm just looking out for number one." He lied. "I've some history with them too."

@kelzthalassunwhisper

[safrona-shadowsun]

Put "Hate me, Love me, Miss me." In my askbox and my muse will tell you something about you they hate, something they love, and something they would miss if you left. -- Tursidhion

Hate: “Hate?” Safrona remarked after a long moment, boggling on why the name was being brought up in the first place. She tensed, feeling as if the inquiry were some test, trying to phase her. She spoke with a low, forced calm. “I…hate that he is not at peace despite my help, that he haunts the Ghostlands, tormented…” Like my dreams. She dared not confess it, give the nightmares strength to return him to her tonight. “Most of all, I hate that he makes me feel guilty for drawing my damn breath.”

Love: The mirthless chuckle drifted from her lips. “You talk as if there is still a Tursidhion Felomelorn to speak of. What walks the dead land out there is only a shell in armor, driven to collect souls. He has his role to play, but the originating soul of the man is gone.” Safrona was quiet a moment, letting herself be tugged by wisps of surviving memory that were not her own. For a moment, her voice had went soft, lamenting. “…perhaps the Knight had been loved most for how freely he sought to save another, when he was still whole. Even to those who were undeserving…”

Loss: Further, the question took Safrona into dark haunts, a whisper rustling from her lips like a breeze through dying trees. “I …will miss the man I never grew to know, and nothing of the husk that remains.”

{@elibraddock / @tursidhion-felomelorn}

[sanguinesorceress]

][Confession][ Long do I miss the nights of my cold fingers around your ashen throat. The press of sharpened teeth along my shoulder and the violent affections for which we once wove together. You sang dark hymns for me once upon a time. Symphonies that inspired chills in the hearts of those that heard such beautiful releases within this towering embrace. I think of those evenings upon this throne of bones and dare imagine silver hair and blackened lips against me. How I long for you so.

“Trauma inflicted upon the mind tends to lessen with the passing of time, but a single scratch on the surface of one’s heart holds the potential to bleed for an eternity.” 

- Malakortana, the Sanguine Sorceress

Despite the fact all memories of him had been erased against her will, Malakortana could never truly rid herself of the ceaseless yearning she felt tugging at her stilled and lifeless heart.  The voice of a man haunted her visions, and over time, she had come to refer to him as ‘the nameless.’  His words pulled at her, over continents and across time itself, beseeching her return… but to where?  Oh how she delighted in listening to his incessant pleas, for he spoke as though she was his sole reason for existence.

Little did she realize, she was the one who had created him.

@tursidhion-felomelorn​

[tursidhion-felomelorn]

Testing Myths

--[ Vibes ]

   “I can smell your fear...”

   “I can taste your terror...”

   “You called me forth... Invoked my name... Why are you so afraid?”

    Laughter rang throughout the Ghostlands like a haunting chorus of ill delivery. A harsh winter poured over the domain that was a signature of the Dreadnaught’s presence. For a creature so large he was difficult to locate for the panic-stricken gaze of the human scout. Mists obscured the ground and rolled in like an eerie fog, the crunching of sticks, snow, and dead leaves echoed everywhere making it nearly impossible to determine the direction of the arctic lord. 

    “Deprive me of my slumber...”

    “Awaken me to the world already damned...”

    “I’ve heard your boasts... Why do you cower now?”

     Again, laughter from the dark knight filled the atmosphere as a glacial chain snapped through the wilderness to wrap around the legs of his would-be caller. A fearful scream relinquished from the throat of the captured as he was dragged along the ground, over the hands of the dead that pierced the soil that threatened bring the scout beneath, and until he was face to face with the King of Lamentations himself. 

     “Y-y-you are not real! You’re j-j-just a myth! This isn’t h-h-happening!” The scout cried as the murderous eyes of Tursidhion latched to the other males. It was as if he was siphoning the very life out of the scout just by staring him down. Frost started to accumulate along the ankle and leg of the human as the undead titan lifted him further up. Veins were turning cold while hypothermia set in.

    “Your screams will be legendary... They will hear them all the way back to Stormwind. Do not be afraid, son of man. You will join your other comrades that have made much the same error... I will carve your bones into my throne and forever will you cast a smile along the pikes that line my kingdom.”  

     The hand of the goliath was unflinching as he held the smaller male by his throat. “Your eyes will weep forever while your sorrowful grin reminds others that I am no myth... Now, son of man, let your sins be heard.”

OOC: Felt the urge to write for Sid. Hope you enjoy.

[gravekeeper-anna]

Muse Aesthetics: Horror Edition

Bold what applies to your muse.

CLASSIC.

black and white. powder puffs. red lipstick. winged eyeliner. white kitten heels. black lace lingerie. icy blue eyes. rain. abandoned cars. skeletons. acid. poison. voyeurism.switchblades. strangling. overcoats. looking over your shoulder. trans-atlantic accents. private detectives. dinner parties. haunted mansions. cobwebs. perfect blonde curls.kitchen knives. shock. cellars. ghosts. dark alleys. empty streets. horn-rimmed glasses. radiation. zombies. serial murder. suspicion. paranoia. the city. witches. the devil.cannibalism. conspiracies. amulets. abject terror. the American South. the American Northeast. Britain. analog cameras.

CRYPTID & URBAN LEGEND.

aliens. blinding light. dark woods. driving at night. claw marks. bite marks. men in black. memory loss. dismembered bodies. sewers. flashlights. cell phones. video cameras. cars with tinted windows. unlabeled cassette tapes. bugs. big cities. urban crimes.clowns.something rustling outside your window. glowing light. unsolved mysteries. suburbia.mirrors. the american pacific northwest. the american midwest. hiking. backpacking.

GOTHIC.

gaslights. corsets. ballrooms. candlelight. mist. starless nights. full crescent moons.cobbled streets. horse-drawn carriages. mysterious strangers. bogs. moors. forests. mountains. castles. velvet. silver. brass. gold. jewels. domino masks. the opera. dangerous romances. tragic romances. violins. roses. lilies. empty graves. crosses. cemeteries. snow. ice. the gallows. crows. milk-white skin. ambiguous illness. fangs.pointed nails. something howling in the night. capes. gloves. top hats. straight razors.lightning. pipe organs. underground caverns. bats. mice. rats. ravens. cats. pearls. attics. talismans.axes. wood. isolation in a room full of people. vampires. werewolves. ghosts. coffins.western europe. eastern europe. bones. churches. catacombs. mausoleums.books.

PARANORMAL.

malevolent spirits. seances. spells. missing bodies. hidden graves. white noise. static.flickering lights. rings of salt. demons. poltergeists. dark histories. old buildings. cold air. wells. urban exploration. a dog barking at unseen things. iconoclasm. black ooze. old photographs. dark bodies of water. crucifixes. priests. possession. exorcisms. dolls.

SLASHER.

bloodbaths. massacres. wanton nudity. newspapers. leather jackets. letterman jackets. converse sneakers. obscured faces. social unrest. bonfires. lakes. babysitters. high school. lockers. dead leaves in the fall. jack-o’-lanterns. passing shadows. outdated television sets. nightmares. psychiatrists. hospitals. unstoppable forces. gunfire. police. landline telephones. improvised weapons. halloween. secrets. revelations. cut wires.character masks. scrunchies. wild curls. jeering children. parties. fire. swearing.revulsion.california. the american midwest. ambulances.

THRILLER.

daylight. fluorescent lighting. morgues. unwavering eye contact. tension. lit rooms. empty rooms. killer in plain sight. a dog digging in the newly-planted flower bed. steely gazes.paperwork. anagrams. codes. convicted killers. missing persons. law enforcement. federal agents. small towns. suspicion. paranoia. subdued terror. dimly-lit parking lots. a noise in the distance.

Tagged by: @eye-of-kuu - thank you!

Tagging: @nixnixya, @ocress, @gaebral, @theconstructsworld, @tursidhion-felomelorn, @forsakenbaker, @marusheartmourn, and anyone else that would like to do this!

[kelzthalassunwhisper]

Send a "▥" for a snip-it of conversation if the character and writer were stuck in a room together. (For Alicion.)

"So let me get this straight... I'm an apparition of your creation? You're trying to convince me that I'm not a real blue dragon, but made up of magical particles known as pixels, which are like droplets of ink on a parchment canvas?"

I nod - knowing full well the temper that Kelzygosa regularly imparted when confused or baffled by some logical concept. It was interesting though to experience and share this reality with what was otherwise a facet of my imagination.

"Alicion," my voice breaking the tense silence with anxious yet but curious resolve. "Do you happen to remember that time when I wrote about Iados, you know... the Jackal? I always thought you two would have been a cute pairing."

Alicion froze in her pacing and turned to shrewdly size me up as those draconic slits slid over the glow of her golden eyes. I knew this was a sore topic, but I didn't want her to feel the anguish of not being able to see the man again.

"Well, the adventure isn't over. There might still be time to say hi again."

Alicion shook her head and turned to look towards the endless stretch of walls that boxed us in the same room together. But she offered no response, perhaps rationalizing that I might already know her thoughts given my god-given talent of inventing her personality and likeness.

"You are so much like me, it's incredible." I remark, feeling the corners of smile lift. "But just know if I could be a dragon, I already would be."

@sanguinesorceress thank you so much for the ask, Mala <333 I actually had a lot of fun writing this one ;3

@tursidhion-felomelorn - since Iados' blog isn't here - figured I'd just casually smack your other blog with my tag ;)

[safrona-shadowsun]

💠 Is there a Headcanon about my muse you want to know more about? Ask away! -- I headcanon that Safrona has severe PTSD after dealing with the dark legend of the Ghostlands, but what I am curious about is (if you accept this) how does handle & view snow now when she feels it drop and drape across her skin given that it was the announcement of the Juggernauts presence?

{ I believe Safrona did very much have PTSD after dealing with the King of Laments. For about a year or so after his confrontation and even trying to adhere to the fallen paladin’s last request, she felt haunted by the monstrous husk, as if she had helped to unlock an evil that would not be restrained. He came into her nightmares, the fear of what this creature intended to do to her like an icy grip around her throat. It took some time for her to help that fear melt.

In current times, especially after the Legion’s influence, exile from Silvermoon for Void infusion, and the threat of the Black Empire tearing through reality, there have been far larger traumas Safrona has incurred that put the Juggernaut’s march to some dormant part of her mind, especially since she has not been ‘triggered’ by the sight of him in years. 

At most now, it is a headcanon that Safrona dislikes snow and the natural cold - and she has enough bad vibes from other haunts in the Ghostlands to simply keep herself away in these very recent days, unless immediately summoned. }

{ @elibraddock / @tursidhion-felomelorn }