#wytchkyng

[lamthanc-blog]

@wytchkyng​ [cont.]:

"You see, the outcome of the battle is unimportant. What matters is the chaos, and the slaughter."

                               He raises a brow at the others words, affiliating BLASPHEMY with his babbling. While an assemblage of anarchy and enormity progressed his passions, they were often discarded if his victory fellFLAT. War was filled with WRATH; it was the one time the damned could descend to instill sin in its soldiers. And while he himself had also fallen victim to vice and profited from the pleasures of anothers pain, it was for NAUGHTif he only gained GORE, but not GLORY.                                He thumbs at his canine, poking away at pallid point, hoping the sensation would suppress him from unleashing SAVAGE speech. How ignorant is such an assumption… He is SELFISH, he expects BOTH from his battles. One without the other is WORTHLESS. There must be triumph AND there must be terror… He dares bury that verse from his bible into this new body.                                                 ❛ You must have lost MANY battles if you obey such a philosophy. War is meant to be WON…and THEN we count the bodies… Or have you forgotten, OLD FRIEND? ❜

      “’Tis not I who has forgotten.” The words spoke of an underlying impishness to it all -- paired marvelously with the wicked smirk pale lips curled into. They two were alike in truth, yet not the same. ( No one was truly the same as the mad god; none could stand reveling in the things he did long term. This he knew, for his dear Mairon had become his best witness on the matter. ) And yet... Position mattered most in this conversation; without it, the hand he so loved to play would mean nothing. Expectations are worthless. Plans may blossom, only to turn and feast upon their master’s entrails. Chaos reigns as the native High King in existence.

   ( These were the highest of verses in his own bible -- though they were things that he imagined Sauron, in her lust for control, had failed to preach in his stead. No... He knew that she hadn’t; much as he longed for her presence, they were as different as fire and ice... Chaos and order... )

   “I never loose. Not when my forces lay bleeding out en masse, not when I am led away in chains -- for one simple reason: I am destruction without purpose and anarchy given form and sentience. No matter what wounds I must bear, those who dare think their world is or may be stable shall never forget the tides of death I raised against them. They plan and organize going forth, but in the back of their mind, they know well that I dog their every step whether my body is present or not, for I have stained this very existence with my imperfection. That is victory absolute.”

[bcmbadil]

wytchkyng started following you

“Oh go boil your head you silly wraith!” bellowed the little man between laughs “-you have no power over Tom! And if you try to force old Tom’s hand! He might think ill of you!”

[lamthanc-blog]

@wytchkyng

      This spot he found himself in was perilous at absolute best; every highlight held potential ruin for not only himself, but for the little one he’d been charged to watch over. ( Oh, how he missed the light dear Sauron emitted -- t’was the only that the Dark Vala didn’t find abhorrent. Now, she stood no better than he; a ghost in the shadows. A thing of the night, rather than a resplendent and no less hellish noonday sun, hellbent upon bringing everything her light touched into her dominion. ) Instinct whispered of an easier path -- one in which the burden falls away to the typical need of keeping naught but himself intact -- but logic ripped away the idea and stomped it into the earth; she would have his hide if something were to happen to her child. Their child.

   A redirect, then; introduce another to be left, should things turn sour. ( Or perhaps, in the best of circumstances, to defend... ) The idea was sweet enough, surely, to risk other sets of eyes being drawn to the pair -- sweet enough to risk further drain from stretching once-powerful capabilities. Easy enough, really, to lure a victim to the woods. ( Had his charm not been enough, no doubt his young son was; humans were pitiful. ) And though it took time enough to complete, so, too, was pulling forth one of Sauron’s loyals; was he too not but a man, once...?

   “Wake,” hissed Melkor, watching the body like a bird of prey watched its target. “You have a debt to return.”