#allhesaid

[hollowfaith]

「✧」 This time it's the noise that attracts Aurelius from his flight to make a detour above a small village. The town square is unusually crowded, with all of the villagers listening with baited breath as a man in their center rattled off an impressive-sounding speech.

Listening closely, Aurelius realizes that the contents are nothing quoted in the Book of Empyrean.

Furthermore, the man seems more interested in hamming himself up instead of God.

Eyes narrowing, the divinus drops into a landing right behind the other man, stirring up a circle of pebbles and dirt amidst his spectacle. There's a beat of shock before the villagers exclaim out loud at his presence and prostrate themselves on their knees; ignoring them, Aurelius just straightens up to stand, head cocked to one side as he stares down at the man spouting blasphemies.

"Go on," the angel urges.

"You were saying?"

@allhesaid ໒꒱

[viladlind]

did somebody say valentine's. fiyero and boyfriends @corvisque and @allhesaid part 2 💗combfy cozy cute art by ensiriustea on vgen!

[uwps001]

@allhesaid

Constantine is seated on the shore at Sunset Circuit, close enough for the waves to touch him but not so close that they actually touch him. He's enjoying the weather, the sound of the waves, and his little beer. He'll probably go in for a swim much later tonight if anything, when there aren't people out and about.

Maybe he can bring Hiyori to swim with him.

Hm.

"Have you read anything about this place? I'm told that the beach here is supposed to look like the moon. The waves, the sand, and the water itself are supposed to look like the surface of the moon."

Oh, wait...isn't this the new guy at Skullrender?

[codexvmbra]

{ isola starter call ! || @allhesaid ! }

Max clearly isn't the only one in this world who gets a sick sort of comfort out of watching other people suffer. He's entitled to it, as far as he's concerned; after what he's been through, it's only right that he gets to enjoy himself at someone else's expense. It's what They did to him it's what They're doing to Charlie right now and he can pass that pain along as much as he wants to, thank you very much.

(He thinks about the wave of Hounds that came three days before the completion of the portal. The fear in Wilson's eyes hadn't sparked any sort of joy that time, not like it did before. It's a lot harder to want to see someone hurt when they're sacrificing their safety to keep you alive. When they sacrificed everything to give you back your life in the first place--)

But these wannabe gladiators aren't Wilson, and Maxwell doesn't owe them a single thing. Besides, they volunteered for this, probably. All of the fun of watching people get hurt, none of the nagging guilt and regret for his past actions. What could be better!

He waves over his server, his eyes never leaving the fight.

"A Clover Club, please. Two, actually."

[astrallithid]

Balduran had been overjoyed when he'd returned to his apartment in Cotes to find Will's belongings. The Stars had been rather prompt with the moving request- and for the first time in a long time that he felt he could come home and feel at ease. After a long day of exploring Spirale, he wanted nothing more than to be home with his lover.

⎛ Ansur had said in the mists that it wasn't "settling" if it was love- Balduran was starting to believe that. Will didn't 'settle' for an illithid- Will loved him- there didn't need to be any grand reason for it. ⎠❝ Will? ❞

Something felt ... off.

Balduran rushes up the stairs- Will's home, at least- he seems lost in thought, tracing his fingers against a strange gold band around his neck. It's pretty, although it doesn't match the poet's outfit. That was rather unlike Will.

❝ Are you alright? ❞

That's a stupid question and he knows it. If Will was alright, he would've come running down to the door when Balduran had first opened it. He would've thrown himself into Balduran's arms-

❝ What happened? ❞ He looks Will over for any obvious injuries- he's glad that he finds none, but it shifts his concerns to other possibilities. Will had never been distant before- certainly, he was never silent. Was he unhappy suddenly?

⎛ It's not settling if it's love, says the memory of Ansur. Balduran reminds himself that Will loves him. ⎠

@allhesaid

[yajmae]

MUN TALKS ABOUT THE MUSE   ✟   ACCEPTING.

@allhesaid sent--- ↳ 😩?

😩 - hardest thing about writing the muse? 

azrael hates talking to people; he hates social interaction, he hates it when people talk to him (much less be kind to him, he finds it so odd), and has no qualms telling people to leave him alone. it definitely requires a special kind of persistence and patience to get to know him. he's the most unsociable motherfucker on this planet but on god i will force him into friendships whether his dumb ass likes it or not.

[faucherlace]

name: willem sprunghart.

age: 28.

position requested: model.

credentials: i was ranked the second most handsome man in my country three years in a row by several different magazines (the king was in first place). i did modelling multiple times, maybe ten? oh i had a drink named after me in a tavern i’ve never gone to. oh yeah and one time someone insisted on buying this shirt i appeared in once to promote a brand’s collection for a thousand pounds. i didn’t sell it but i think there was another time i was paid that to wear stockings you could barely see under my pants for another brand. also i’d love to wear pretty clothes! do you need anything else?

—

❛ I wonder if we could promote you as an exclusive brand... ❜

❛ But that is for later. Let me see what you fit for my styles. For now I ask nothing—except, perhaps, a kiss when you are idle. ❜

[hewillnevervisit]

The smell of blood carried him to the little alley, the stairs leading down.

His base instincts rolled over him, if only for this month. He entered the establishment, barely looking at the name, Skull Render.

The music was loud, the uproarious voices even more so. Blood, alcohol, bodily stenches -- it was all so heavy, an assault on his nose. But he was looking for it, the raw intensity of it all, if only to try and force it all into one scent, one sensation.

He took to the cage arena and let himself be raw. His claws out, snarling like some beast; Right now he was more the mundane fox, hunting for prey than the scholar.

Many of the would be fighters seemed hesitant to go into the arena with a near seven foot tall fox man baring his fangs. But the party needed to keep its momentum and eventually, challengers approached.

Blood was drawn as he bit and clawed, leaping upon opponents and screeching in their faces. Time was irrelevant, his vision was pinpoint. And then, he was at a table.

He didn't remember dragging himself to this table, robes and fur matted with blood. He didn't remember fighting with the chair, ending up on his ass more than once. He laid his arms on the table, nestling his head atop them.

"Coffee..." He groaned. He didn't even know if there was a server around. "Chili powder..."

@allhesaid

[occultacarne]

@allhesaid

"Willhem."

"I have been searching everywhere for you." Sebastian approaches Will, a smile worn on his features as he greets the other. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me," he says feigning hurt.

Actually, Will had been the perfect person to ask this, huh?

"Do you know of Valentine's Day?"

[nobully]

@allhesaid:

"Hey kitty, want some dried fish?"

Spotting the cat sunbathing at the side of the road, Wang Yi pauses to crouch down with a bag of the snacks, shaking them out as an offering.

"You're a lot less tubby than Sao Ling, that's for sure..." He sees the tail waving in response, and brushes it for fun with his fingers. Instantly, an itching spreads from his fingers up his arm and across his body; by the time he's scratching his cheek, new scales have emerged from the skin.

"Eh?"

"...are snakes allergic to cats?" Wang Yi mutters, then winces. He's accidentally nicked himself with his new fangs, too. "Oh, shit—"

[cityburns]

@allhesaid

This is usually a lot easier at Atlantis. The circuitry of their old vending machines would seize up the latch sometimes, and all Johnny would have to do to klep a free drink was wait until the victim gave up and then give it a swift few kicks. But this time, the machine keeps its drinks locked tight. At least it's a much older model than he's used to. Not a fan of stealing all the time, but Johnny was under the impression that this was all V's mind palace. No harm done, smashing open the window of the vending machine and reaching in for a cold one.

Some generic brand of pop that he'd never heard of. Knowing V, it probably tastes like shit. But at least it's cool to the touch. Turning its head, it hadn't noticed there was an onlooker not too far from here. A silver hand reaches into the machine again, and it hands the drink over to Will. "Here. On me. For your silence."

Johnny pays him barely any mind as he continues to go through the vending machine for something a little more recognisable. All generic brands, heavily themed by the looks of it. Spirale-Cola. Pepspirale. V is awfully attached to this whole Spirale theme. What a gonk. Would it kill V to imagine alcoholic vending machines over pixies? ( Considering the state of the biochip as it is, maybe ).

[kleinstar]

@allhesaid || AN UPLIFTING WINTER FAIR

" Thought I saw someone familiar!!! "

Eiden emerges from in between some seriously thick wintercoats. He's just looking, most of the items he's actually got are going to be wrapped into neat, well decorated packages somewhere after this trip. He's about done with that for now.

" Chips not with me today if you wanted to see him, sorry! "

" There are some hot drinks and treats at the end that row of stalls over there though. Want to take a look? "

[viladlind]

[ 18:51 ] so love [ 18:51 ] i couldn't find something you'd like for starlight [ 18:51 ] or well i did but turns out every single store is closed and i didn't know [ 18:52 ] so i have something else [ there's an image attached of will's collarbones, covered in saran wrap. various dots in red, forming a bitemark in tattoo ink, are displayed on his skin. ] [ 18:52 ] i wanted this to be a surprise for later but i didn't want to show up without gifts [ 18:52 ] recognise that bite at all, darling? 🥰

dar'khol had told her about this tradition, a holiday that fiyero had never heard of before. the island covered in decorations, she was curious about it, but ultimately didn't see much sense participating. winter celebrations in faerûn vary widely depending on which god you follow and lathander doesn't terribly concern himself with the colder seasons of the year.

   all this to say, she doesn't have a single thing planned.

   she briefly frets reading over the first few messages that willem sends, grappling with the fact that he was looking for a gift for her, and that she had made no such effort. she's imagining him walking from one store to the next to find something, coming up empty, and perhaps feeling bad about it ... the small pause between his last text and the image popping up is enough for her to worry.

   but once she looks at the image properly, every other thought she could have possibly had sifts out of her mind.

   staring blankly for a long moment, she brings the little device closer to her face. the saran wrap makes it a bit hard to see, and at first fiyero doesn't realize what she's looking at. tattoos work differently back home. that, and willem has made it a point to keep his shirts on when he visited the last few weeks, something entirely unlike him. but she looks, mind entirely empty, and her eyes trace over the red outline of a ... bite?

   that's her bite.

   ( text: noltruti'u ) w

   she didn't mean to send that yet. her claws always make it difficult to type, but even more so when she's a little frantic.

   ( text: noltruti'u ) willem

   fiyero doesn't even know what to say. she's thrilled, obviously, her pulse rabbiting and desire pushing so fast and strong up against her throat that she stands in the middle of her kitchen with her mouth open. subconsciously, her tongue drifts over one of her fangs. her mind is struggling to catch up while her body has a very clear idea of what's going on here.

   that's her, on him. permanently.

   what an evil man he is.

   snapping her mouth closed, fiyero is rushing to her entry as she types the next message, trying to jump into her boots with her phone in her hand. blindly reaching for her cloak, she hits send and stares the screen down, as if that would make his reply appear faster.

   ( text: noltruti'u ) where are you?

[mortememoria]

odd was one way of putting it, recognizing a creature never seen before. known from a life never truly lived, a fabrication he was meant to believe. false instinct is what had a thumb hooking against his belt, a finger idly tapping against a shrunken capsule hooked to it. pokeballs, lined and ready.

a stufful, his false memories told him. cute little thing. although he was fairly content with the companions he carried already, there was a curious impulse that lead fingers to pluck a ball from his belt.

he was supposed to be some trainer, right? taking joy in capturing these creatures; befriending and fighting alongside them. raven's memories of it may not be real, but the playful urge to play into them certainly was.

"may as well take a crack at this!" pokeball rests within his palm, index pressing the button within the middle of it to enlarge the heart-decorated capsule. "whaddaya say, my furry friend? care to be my first catch?"

@allhesaid

[jwicks]

@allhesaid

It was nice, not to feel chased for a while. It had felt nice back when he was retired, but that didn't last very long, and John wasn't expecting this to last long either. It didn't last long as a child, and it will never be long enough as an adult, but he should allow himself to enjoy small moments like this. Small moments, where he's walking down the street with his dog, trying to find someplace to fix his phone. He didn't have the chance back when Santino's bounty was in effect, and certainly not a second to spare when the entirety of the High Table was after him for his hasty decision to do business on Continental grounds.

He should've taken better care of it. John pulls it out of his pocket, the glass of the screen coming off in little pieces, the light behind it static and struggling to display anything. He can't really touch it, or else the glass will get in his fingers. It's already in his pocket. He doesn't care if anything else on it gets wiped, he just needs that video. Nowhere in this entire city does he have a cache stored away...

Someone a little more familiar with the city strolls by, and John will take any opportunity he can get to survive here. The dog follows his movements as he wanders closer to the stranger, pocketing the broken phone. "Excuse me, do you know any good phone repair stores here? It's somewhat urgent."

[manifcst]

@allhesaid

JEDEDIAH IS NOT AN ARTSY PERSON. He's pretty darn good with maps, sure. Keeps a journal on and off. Has been known to try his hand at a sketch or two every now and then, even, but that was a real long time ago when they were still all locked up, and he's had better things to do since then. And no, he's not much of a reader and sure as heck not a writer. Nor does he hold too much interest in the process of any of that - he'd obliged Octavius and gone over once to watch those Romans and their statue-making and had been bored out of his mind, but then again that had been a slow process. Real slow.

And he is a little nosy. What, it's not like he's got anything more interesting to snoop into right at this moment - some guy's spilling his creative guts out all over the table, and he's supposed to just ignore it? He lassos on up to the back of the chair and there's the devil over your shoulder, hands on his hips, squinting with accusatory scrutiny at the scrawl on the page.

"Hold on now, hoss, that ain't even a word," he points it out. "You made that one up."