#tqmobileblogging

[tragicquartet]

Any sense of body horror aside a voice sounds out from within Mallews confines, 'first time?'

The voice at first strikes him as yet another of the many strange beings that came to haunt him, but after a moment (and some contemplation of his most recent round of awful wretching), he lifts his head, staring about in a state of dazed confusion.

His senses, obfuscated by pain and exhaustion, take some time to finally track down and react to the presence, recognizing it as...something else.

"...y-yea," he manages to blurt out, focusing on the presence as his senses swim, finishing his thought before returning his attention to the expulsions of his flesh and blood, "any advice you care to give, stranger?"

[tragicquartet]

Spring. What an odd feeling that word made, rattling around in his head. Spring. Spring was here again. And it had been here for a while, now. The distant rustling of fallen leaves and the icy crunch of snow had long given way to the soft, dew-strewn swish of healthy, growing grass. The smell of crisp, bitter wind had long since passed, the breeze now heavy with weight of oncoming rain and the scent of blossoming flowers. Flowers. What an odd thing it was to be sitting here, in his garden, seeing flowers. There weren't many, but there were enough. Enough to make the little floral wire fences he'd made by hand, the little cordoned off attempts at flowerbeds, the garden tiles he'd set into the dry, ashen soil almost have a purpose. Almost. After all, he didn't physically go out into the garden much, and he didn't touch the flowers now, either. He was so afraid to touch, disturb any of it now that it seemed almost stable, almost "real," in a sense. He was worried he'd ruin it. He'd planted flowers, and not all of them had died. Most of them had, yes, but a few had survived in this place, in his garden, in his presence. That was nice. Mallew reclined back in his chair, his teacup gently clinking on the iron garden table he'd installed not too long ago. He wondered if the cashier at the hardware store on the edge of town was starting to recognize him now. He'd been in a few times now in the last few months, but only towards the edge of night, when he felt most safe. Say what one will of him, but Mallew knew what he was, at the end of the day, and what he could and couldn't do... And he wasn't planning on pushing his luck being amongst people again. Still, he had found himself outside more, and he watched over his modest, patchy garden with something resembling contentment. His cats darted between the small plots and sparce flowerbeds, chasing after bugs and the shifting shadows of the windswept trees overhead, Mallew letting out a low sigh. He looked down at his hands, then closed his eyes, feeling the weight of his body against the metal and wood. The last few months had been strange: he had gotten a better sense of time, although it still slipped from him often. He was good at tracking weeks now, and feeding and tending to the cats and the garden had helped him with that on a daily basis. He was sleeping more regularly now, although he still remained more nocturnal than anything else. He was beginning to prefer his bed over his coffin, and he felt the need to eat and drink more and more... As revolting as that was to him. His brow furrowed as he leaned against his chair, feeling it push back against him, tilt slightly back with his weight. His physical form had been getting heavier, oddly: floating didn't come as easily now, nor did phasing through things. His claws were not as pronounced anymore either, and it had taken time for him to get used to how that changed how he touched and interacted with things. He'd caught a few glimpses of himself in the mirror from time to time, always startling at the sight, not exactly recognizing himself right away with all the small, yet present changes that had happened to him. He had dreaded it when it began, but now... He let out a deep sigh, a few wisps of magenta flame escaping from the corner of his eyes, accompanies now by a few sizzling drops of black ectoplasm, which he swept away lazily with one hand. He was changing. Against his will. His form and his behavior were running away from him, pushing him further and further towards an endpoint he didn't know, and which each twisting turn, each new development taking more and more out of him, filling him with deeper and deeper fear, dread, and disgust... He had almost accepted it, at this point. And that was what scared him the most.

[tragicquartet]

As the rain poured down, Mallew stood still. 

The wind howled through the tall, gnarled trees, his flowerbeds soaked, soil heavy with torrential amounts of water, his mansion door creaking ominously, blowing back forth in the wind behind him, as if beckoning him to return inside...

He didn’t.

Instead, he stepped further out. 

As the first pellets of cold rain met with his form, he flinched, reflexively, expecting the usual pain that came from contact with water, but, pushing past that fear, that all too well-known pain...

He stepped farther out. 

And then farther, again. 

And again. 

Before long, he was beyond the garden edge, the ghoul standing alone, the distant beckoning of his underlings, the soft mewls of his cats trying to draw him back into the mansion, his home, now so far away...

He stayed where he was. 

Tilting his head up into the rain, Mallew let the water cascade down, rolling down his face and off his broad shoulders, sliding off of him without a single hint of pain.

Opening his eyes, he found himself staring up towards the black, thundering sky, the gentle fizzle and pop of his fiery irises meeting with the cold rain rattling, loud and clear, in his head. 

Before, a single drop of water could corrode, harm, and disrupt his form, hurting as much to him as it would if pure acid had been poured onto bare skin, but now...

He stood.

Staring at the sky, watching the lightning flow overhead, all through his fizzling, flickering eyes, his form heavy and damp with water that now clung to it, so casually and without pain, as if it had always been this way.

He shuddered, feeling a cold dread seep in against him, clinging to his body like so much rain.

Just what, exactly, was he turning into?

[tragicquartet]

@forgetthegouda

((What of o told you he did this to himself? :3

I've done nothing but merely push him along, really...

For better, or for goes a worse. uwu))

[tragicquartet]

((...so, uh, that AU got a whole lot of attention. '( ._.)

Howdy new folks, nice to have you here! Ngl I'm pretty quiet on here as life and my mental health keep me hella busy, but my inbox is always open if you wanna ask for a thread or pester my muses with some asks.

Check out the mun info page for my discord if you wanna speak to me specifically, and see y'all around! Hope you enjoy my nonsense. :V))

[tragicquartet]

Update

((Hey all, I'm not dead. :V Just hella busy with school (I'm writing my thesis currently, if that's any indication as to how I'm doing, lol) As always, you can reach me on my discord, tragicquartet#5196 , and know that I'm not nearly done with this blog/MSA in general. I have much, MUCH more planned, I'm just busy as Hell, and finishing my degree is, quite predictably, is consuming most of my time. Hope y'all are well, stay awesome!))

[tragicquartet]

Closed Starter: Looming Shadow

@icangiveyouanything

The master of the house was sleeping, but no one else was. The night sky was bright and clear, the full moon shining through the gnarled branches of the dead trees around the mysterious mansion, giving the usually solemn, frightening place a glisten of midday... At least until a shadow fell across the building, and now there wasn't a single spirit sleeping at all. The lesser spirits cowered as the ground shook: huddled beneath tables, hiding within the walls, terrified of the oppressive aura that this bizarre, unknown visitor had, they tried to remain as silent and unseen as possible. The presence outside rivaled their master's in power, that was for sure, and the intent of this frightening intruder was unknown. The cats, the only living inhabitants of this haunted home, were quick to hide as well, but one, ever fearless, had gone to check on the master of the house, towering shadow looming outside mansion walls or no. Pookie hopped up the stairs to the master bedroom with all the grace her little legs could muster, only to be greeted with the bedroom door slowly creaking open... And a pair of burning, angry irises of magenta fire glowing in the dark. Mallew was not happy. Not in the least. Dragging himself from his bedroom with all the speed he could muster in his half-asleep state, he stormed down the stairs, his clothes shifting from comfortable pjs into his usual suit and ascot with less than a thought. Who had the GALL to disturb him this late at night? He could sense a powerful aura nearby, situated just outside the main doors, but the spirit was neither particularly awake nor particularly rational enough in his current state to hesitate, contemplate just what he was dealing with. In true Mallew fashion, there was nothing to do but tear this intruder apart, whether it be with words, with his claws, or both. Storming out the front doors, the groggy spirit stomped down the front steps, halting only when he, blinded by rage, found and roared at the shape before him, growling, a few wisps of magenta flame rolling off his shoulders as he barely contained his anger: "You! Get the HELL off my lawn! NOW!!!"

[tragicquartet]

-tosses an arthur mer doll at mer Lewis-

((You didn't specificy pre or post Triangle Mer-Lew, so you get both versions!))

Lewis was suprised by the suddenly object being tossed at him, the doll thwacking off of the mershark's head as he surfaced to take a curious peek at a large freighter passing in the distance.

Picking the doll up from where it laid, flopped across his face, he's quite pleased with the little object, the mershark casually fiddling with the plushie's little tentacles before silently submerging again, both the merman and the doll gone without a trace, just as fast as they came.

~~~

The titanic sea monster was quite busy right now, but the plushie rebounding off his head did catch his attention.

The creature was currently near the surface, hoping to pick off the last stragglers of a ship he'd just attacked, the tiny doll floating amongst the debris of the ship, amongst rent metal and torn wood...

Well, it was enough to rile him up into a frenzy.

Whatever poor souls were left aboard that sinking ship had little hope now, Lewis tearing the doll, the ship, and all its shattered remains apart with renewed violence.

How gruesome.

[tragicquartet]

Update

((I LIVE. And hoo boy, the last few months have been a heck and a half. For those of you who have not been keeping up with me on Twitter/Discord, here be-ith the short version of everything that's happened: I spent most of December, including Christmas, sick as a dog, had a change in my lab schedule in early January that ate up more of my time/sanity, lost my grandfather in late January, got out of mourning just in time for my anxiety meds to be adjusted in February, and now I'm here. Good. Freaking. Gravy. Anyways, there will be a flurry of replies later on this afternoon/into tonight, and then, once those are up and taken care of... The new plot begins. Mallew is going to wake up, and there's more than a little that's happened to him in the interim between when he fell asleep and now... I wonder how 4 months of peaceful sleep, far away from the Wrath that plagues him has changed him. I do wonder, indeed. :3 Anyways, y'all tune in for the plot post tonight, then feel free to mess with him. Should be fun. Stay awesome and talk to y'all later!))

[tragicquartet]

Of course the mansion welcomed her: it was an extension, a creation of the man, the monster who adored her most. This place had welcomed her many a time, its inhabitants even more so, but this time, instead of running to her side, the master of the house fled the moment he felt her presence arrive. Fled far, fled deep, fled... Confused. Angered. And afraid. It wasn't something he could describe, especially not in his current state, but try as he might to hide himself, the remnants of his waking struggle were there for all to see. The bathroom door upstairs was ajar, shattered glass, streaked and spattered with black ectoplasm laid there, visible to the woman on her way to the bedroom if  only she turned her head. Flecks and drops of boiling, corrosive, corruptive ectoplasm flecked the fine hardwood floors, leaving a trail like breadcrumbs to the bedroom beneath her feet, and although Mallew had ordered to the doors to lock, to not budge for anyone, the mansion was quick to disobey. As always, Mallew was not in complete control of his own mind, and his mansion followed suit: where he had retreated, deep into his swirling, chaotic thoughts, it had opened the bedroom doors to welcome his one reliable cure, his one true panacea into his chambers, closer than ever to his cowering form. The room was dark, lamp turned off, bedsheets still askew, still clawed and ripped as they had been when he had awakened, but no ghoul was to be seen. He had fled, though not far. His memory may be frazzled, broken and beyond repair, his childhood long devolved into a hazy, painful murk, but old habits die hard. When he was a child, he had hid amongst his clothes, his few possessions that had brought him happiness in a treacherous home, and so he sat now, sitting in the midst of fine suits, dresses, and dress shirts, his hand still dribbling its toxic blood onto the floor below, his body curled up in a ball, his head tucked down against his knees, shaking with both rage and fear. What was wrong? What had happened to him? Why was he freaking out like this? And why did it make him so... So... ANGRY?!

[tragicquartet]

I do hope you know the former king kept more then just dragons as pets to be used in combat. Ive heard rumors of Phoenix' and trolls, he had quite the magical army if the rumors are to be believed my lord mallew~

"So I've heard," the king stated calmly, gently petting a few of his royal alpacas, the hooved creatures happily striding along in their wide, comfortable pasture."I've no confirmation on whether or not his intention was to create armies with such creatures, but there were...rumors, shall we say." The king turned his attention to a group of cria that had just approached him, the group of young alpacas hopping around him for a moment before being ushered away by their mother. They truly were a lively bunch today."I found no such creatures lying in wait when I cleared out the dungeons under the castle, nor were there any such creatures in the deepest barracks after I set loose Arthur's many troops from their duties. The royal guard that exists today is mostly made up of volunteers, and although many of the old guard have returned to serve under me, many more have long left the service. If anyone knows the truth, it is likely they, but I hardly suspect any would be willing to tell you."Mallew gently ran his claws along the fur of one of his alpacas, continuing with a somewhat wily tone to his voice: "You would be better off searching under bridges, approaching ashen trees caught in the blaze of long-extingished wildfires, searching the sky and the earth out in the wilds of this land than here, with me. Unlike dragons, these creatures do not nest, do not keep a stationary hoard, and, as such, if they ever did live here, they've long been freed, and are free to go where they may..." The king silently held his free arm out, a small, fluffy bird landing upon his outstretched arm with a small chirp, a few puffs of smoke and some lovely embers popping from its beak as he offered the crimson creature a small handful of seeds from his pocket. The bird chirped happily, bowing it's head before taking off, flying off into the midday sky with a few small embers trailing off its windtips."...or so I'd guess. Who's to say?"

[tragicquartet]

Come on Mallew, even though you don’t need to, give it a try. Breathe in through your nose for three seconds, then breathe out through your mouth for three more seconds. Just repeat that a few times, and maybe it’ll help you relax. If it doesn’t, then nothing will have changed for you. It’s alright to try it, right? *Puts on some soothing orchestral music in the background*

"..."

He was slow to try it out: breathing in was not something he did consciously, and forcing himself to do it was deeply uncomfortable.

Regardless, he did manage to pull some air in through his nose, then force it out through his mouth, feeling at any moment that he may panic, may choke, that something might go wrong...but somehow he managed to do all three before collapsing back onto his couch, trying not to force himself to breathe nor NOT breathe, in turn only sending his fright and discomfort higher.

Yea, no, that didn't help him relax at all.

Closing his eyes, however, he would try focusing on the music, see if that helps...

[tragicquartet]

Hey mallew how you holding up?

There's a low groan from within a pile of blankets, deep within the mansion.

He's been avoiding just about everything for the past few weeks: the outdoors, his underlings, any sort of reflective surface...

Not well is the answer.

Not.

Well.

[tragicquartet]

Hey Mallew? How much more solid are you? How has your sense of touch improved? *Magics the man out and into the sunlight, where he can feel the warmth.*

"I...I don't know? I-"

Before he can even properly reply he's outside, basking in the light of the sun...

He wasn't really sure how to answer the anon's question, nor why he was out here, but he didn't like it.

His skin felt odd in the sun, and he wasn't about to investigate the anon's curiosity further if he didn't have to. 

Turning on his heels, he's quickly back inside, closing the door behind him and slinking back into the dark familiarity of his home.

[tragicquartet]

His mind was muddled, but his senses were not. He heard the movement outside, the noise and chaos. He heard the soft footfalls, the small whimpers, her racing heart and the compression of bed springs as the mun supported her weight, moving closer and closer to his hiding place. His mind grappled with the information those noises gave, one half of him treating every sound of her approach like nails on a chalkboard, unwanted and unpleasant, while the other half silently, desperately pleaded for her company. He felt like he was in two pieces, torn apart like an old doll and tossed aside, both halves held together by a long, raggedy string. His heart, aching and clinking, begging for Dana's arms to be around him, to pull him close and assure him that this was okay, that HE was okay, that whatever this was it would come to pass... And his mind, reeling with an incoherent rage and fear, formless, shapeless, directionless in its all-encompassing madness, like a swirling tornado in a storm, a blazing inferno in a dried-out forest, with acres upon acres of brush to burn. It flung its debris everywhere it could, jumbling Mallew's thoughts, his movements as his body and mind sought to communicate, the disconnect apparent as Dana pulled the closet door open and he limply slid backwards, falling down onto his side to avoid collapsing against the door entirely... He was weak, in more ways than one. And when the mun finally peered in, revealing the cowering ghoul, flopped out on his side, injured hand held close to his chest, trying to keep it and its dribbling, toxic ectoplasm away from her, magenta irises glowing in now opaque eyes, no more empty sockets to diffuse their light... It was a pitiful sight to see. And although the area may be dim to her,  Mallew could, for better or for worse, see just fine, and see he did. He saw her fear. He saw her confusion. He saw her concern. He had to do something, right? Right??? His lips slowly opened, quivering, the spirit fighting his own mind as a weak, single-word greeting tumbled out of his mouth: "Hi." And a small, fearful smile. 'Please,' he thought, 'make this stop.'

[tragicquartet]

Omg ghost Arthur is too precious my poor heart can't take how adorkable he is.

((To be fair, he’s not meant to be this adorkable: I fully credit some nice anons and his current thread with Alice for showing his softer side.

Tis’ good to see him happy/not just a swirling ball of rage. :V))