#☣ [ ' Eʋҽɾყσɳҽ Lσʋҽʂ A Vιʅʅαιɳ. ' ] - ✡ Dιƈƙʂσɳ Gҽɾαʅԃ Rҽɠιɳαʅԃ Sιɱɱσɳʂ ✡

[chronosbled]

{ I know that I haven't been posting much content lately aside from the very few roleplay responses I have written out, but I'm here to give y'all something that you've never seen before. Behold, white-haired Dickson! And no I won't elaborate further... yet. }

[chronosbled]

"oh. what is with the... new look?" ( she's curious she's curious !! )

☣ — Oh, how he wished he had seen the side effects that would come with succumbing to so many experiments. If only he had been smart enough, had been confident enough to go against his grandfather's wishes. If only had hadn't been so terrified to do anything that would get him thrown right back into that dark, horror inducing darkness. Perhaps he could have been able to prevent such an unfavorable outcome? Perhaps he wouldn't have to hide himself away from all the people he once called his friends and family out of fear for what they'd say, what they'd do, what they'd end up finding out about him that he had tried to hide for so long. His body had been suffering for years, yes, he'd known that much... but for him to discover that his body would change for the worse within the span of a few years? It was more than he could stand.

☣ — Hair that was once as black as the darkness he'd been forced to endure was now as pure as freshly fallen snow, royal blue irises once as deep and mysterious as the darkest depths of the ocean were now as bright and clear as the ice from the glaciers of Alaska. Even his once somewhat pale skin had become even paler, making him look almost akin to a walking corpse. Just like all the ones he'd seen since childhood. He was going to end up looking just like them. Being just like like them.

☣ — No. No. Nonononononono. He couldn't be like them. He couldn't be just like them. He couldn't be. He just couldn't. Hecouldn'thecouldn'thecouldn'thecouldn't— HE CAN'T BECOME ONE OF THEM!

☣ — Strands the color of pure untainted snow bounce ever so slightly as he turns to face the other, mind mulling over the question that he had been asked, an intense burning sensation welling within his very being as if his entire body had been lit ablaze — being forced to acknowledge his sudden drastic change in appearance... it was more than he was prepared for, but he chooses to keep his usual smile present — ice blue irises slowly coming to a close before placing a singular hand against the back of his neck, fingers appearing as if he was lightly rubbing the tender skin (when in actuality he was digging his nails into the flesh).

☣ — "Ahaha, do you like it~? I was thinking of giving something new a try." A lie. Everything that had come out of his mouth in that moment was nothing but one big lie fabricated in order to keep the other from worrying, in order to keep himself from having to admit his suffering aloud. He couldn't bare to tell her something like that. He had made her a promise, after all. This might forsake that promise. "What do you think? Do you like it? Think I should keep it this way from now on~?

[chronosbled]

{ Before I go ahead and edit this boy for icons, I just need to share this picture of his eyes real quick with everyone and explain something.

You see how absolutely soulless and deprived of emotion that they are? This is the exact look that I'm talking about when I say that Dickson's eyes are just an endless void of nothing but the very blue that is their color (obviously they aren't blue in this picture cause I haven't edited it yet). Due to all of the things he's endured since childhood, his eyes do not hold the usual shine that most eyes do, instead they hold a feel of dread and hopelessness if one were to stare into them for too long. They appear hollow. Empty. Dead.

Dickson does not have things like hope or trust in most normal things that other people do. Instead he expects things like betrayal and disloyalty, much of what he received from the people that he trusted. He has no reason to believe that things will be different.

But despite this, there are moments where Dickson does gain a glimmer of hope and there is some semblance of light within his eyes, though it is very rare. This only happens when around those he has grown to love and cherish. }

[chronosbled]

{ I noticed that lots of people tend to forget that Dickson is a mentally unstable individual who will do anything that he deems necessary to get what he wants all because he speaks to their muses and such with nothing but smiles and compliments.

Dickson is NOT a kind or compassionate person, nor does he care about those that he isn't actively pursuing for the sake of genuine friendship or genuine obsession (love in his eyes). Being kind and compassionate is nothing but another mask that he wears from his various collection when he deems it necessary. As an experiment, along with his condition that makes him unable to properly form and convey emotions (which was only worsened by the experimentation he underwent), Dickson is almost 100% incapable of feeling genuine emotions that belong to him and him alone. He has a habit of using the things he's learned from others by watching them when he's trying to portray his own "feelings" towards others and that's the main issue. Those feelings aren't his ACTUAL feelings, they're someone else's, how someone else he observed for years would react.

If someone were to somehow have the ability to strip him of his masks (his "emotions" and "feelings" if you would call them that), they would find nothing but an empty and broken shell of a person who doesn't know how to do anything but obey someone's orders or someone who completely disregards himself (as in his own well-being) when it comes to endlessly toiling away at his own experiments — and despite his experiments revolving around people who have been fucked over by life, making his own attempts to somehow benefit them — his motivation for said deed was not 100% done out of his own desire to do so, but done because (once he was finally able to recall more about his parents from his childhood) he remembered how the both of them desired to use their skills for good and to help those who cannot help themselves. Thus he applied his parents' feelings to himself and uses that core fundamental as the basis of his entire existence (after his grandfather is finally dead and he doesn't have an actual purpose anymore).

Another reason why Dickson shouldn't be underestimated (and simply chalked up to be the sweet, handsome gentleman) is because of the fact he isn't afraid to use and abuse people for his own gain. He will hurt people. He will manipulate people. He will blackmail them and torture them just like he was. And above all else, he WILL kill people. Dickson is not afraid of getting his hands dirty nor is he afraid to take people hostage and brainwash them to do his bidding if he finds it too much of a hassle for himself (or simply because he won't get caught this way if others are watching him). Before Dickson was able to take care of himself and do things for himself, his grandfather had him work as an assassin of sorts (or rather a mercenary if that's what you prefer to call it), granted he wasn't great at it in the beginning because he was very clumsy and wasn't quite sure of what he was doing, but in the end, he still killed people and usually in various creative and cruel ways too if the opportunity to do so provided itself. Additionally, Dickson will also go to any lengths he deems necessary to make sure his target doesn't come out alive, such as the time he chopped off his own hand in order to free himself so he could proceed to kill his client's target.

Sure Dickson may have been more hesitant to do terrible things when he was younger, like when his late fiancée, Janus, wanted him to help her murder various people simply because she felt like it and he didn't want to participate, but that's Dickson was a lot more weak-willed and timid during his childhood. Back then, he didn't have almost any drive to do anything because he wasn't conditioned to be subservient yet. Granted he still would listen to his grandfather's orders without question, but Janus hadn't fully established that kind of FULL control over him since he'd only known her for a few years, thus that lack of control over him is what ended up leading him to kill Janus when she finally got fed up with him enough to begin beating him (that day anyway, considering she was always abusive towards him). That fear he possessed from his childhood years (something I've already established in posts before) had changed into anger (another thing I've already established in past posts) before he finally ended up snapping all together and stabbing Janus to death, regretting what he had done for only a few moments until that dissipated as well because he simply couldn't bring himself to care. The fact that he stored her body in a freezer within the basement of the Simmons Estate only serves as a reminder of how he started in his mind.

One of the biggest reasons why people should remember that Dickson isn't just a pretty face is the HUGE fact that he basically has his own servant (more like mind slave) that both he and Janus shared together when she was still alive, that he ACTIVELY participated in breaking on the days he had suffered himself (granted he was made to believe it was alright by Janus, but that's besides the point). This point here is a perfect way to represent just how broken and unstable Dickson is as well because normally Dickson was the one who tried to keep Janus from tormenting Belphegor (the name Janus decided to give the boy despite him already having a name) and was often the one trying to tend to whatever wounds Janus had created, be them physical or mental ones (though Dickson was only good at mending physical wounds). In Belphegor's mind, Dickson was going to become his savior at some point due to the fact he showed more compassion towards him than Janus did, but this sentiment ended up proving false the day Dickson murdered Janus. Dickson's once gentle and caring demeanor towards Belphegor ended up changing into something more deranged and it only proceeded to get worse once Carla died as well — gentle gestures of affection soon became more aggressive and agitated, once soothing and comforting words became accusatory and possessive, promises of better treatment and freedom became guilt-tripping and manipulation — eventually leading for Belphegor's mental state to be completely broken down to the point he became a puppet for whatever Dickson desired.

Now, you're probably thinking "but hey, doesn't this contradict everything you've posted about Dickson before? You know, the stuff about him not wanting to be like his grandfather and such?" And in a sense, yes, I did contradict myself, but at the same time... I didn't. Why? Because Dickson didn't want to become like his grandfather or Janus or any of the people who tormented him for the entirety of his life, but when you are basically a prisoner within your own home and are subjected to abuse for so long, you generally end up developing Stockholm Syndrome and that's basically what happened to Dickson. The abuse and torment are what lead up to Dickson basically becoming his grandfather and Janus, but he only realizes this once he joins the BSAA and meets Chris and his team. Why does he realize this? Well, that's because of the simple fact that they all treat him like an ally and not a tool. They slowly begin to make him realize that he isn't just an object for someone's desires nor is he just a toy that will be endlessly used until it's broken and tossed away. They made him feel something that he's never felt before: human. They made him feel like he was an ACTUAL human being and not a monster, that he wasn't some kind of murderous and heartless creature, but instead was their close friend and even a part of their little family, which is something that Dickson has always wanted so desperately deep down inside of his very being. Not his grandfather. Not Janus. Not his mother or father. Not Carla. Dickson. Something that HE wanted. One of the very first and only things he's ever wanted in his life. Granted he still wears his various masks around them, but that's because he doesn't know how to stop nor does he want them to know just how inhuman he really is.

^^^ And this whole above paragraph really does help to show just how broken Dickson is and how even just a little bit of love and care towards him can make him into a completely different person, especially if we jump back to this line here in the first paragraph: "Dickson is NOT a kind or compassionate person, nor does he care about those that he isn't actively pursuing for the sake of genuine friendship or genuine obsession (love in his eyes)." The only reason he cares so much about Chris and his team is because of the simple fact they tried to develop genuine friendships with him to the point he had become obsessively in love with each and every one of them (some in platonic ways: Chris, Philis, Finn, Jill, Steve, and some in romantic ways: Victoria and Piers).

But back to the topic of the mind slave, due to the fact that Dickson had finally come into contact with people who... understood him in a sense for lack of a better word... he began to think that he could actually be something other than a tool and because of that, he also believed that maybe Belphegor could be more than a tool as well. Of course, due to being completely broken by Dickson, there wasn't much that could be done for him in the ways of... fixing him so in the end, Dickson simply continues to use Belphegor for whatever he deems necessary but instead of treating him as badly as he had before, he now somewhat treats him as he used to (though he can still be rather harsh when he isn't in the greatest of moods).

So with all that being said, I advise you all (especially those of you with muses that are seeking out romantic affairs with Dickson) to proceed with the utmost caution when doing so because there may come a point where Dickson doesn't care about your muse anymore and simply chooses to discard them (minus Crystal of course because that's his wifey). }

[chronosbled]

What Tragic Horror Character Trope Are You ?

Frankenstein's Monster

This plight is the simplest of them all: you did not ask for this. You were never given a choice. No part of yourself feels human, just a collection of traits you've picked up from mirroring anyone you could, even the people you meet through a television screen. It's alienating to live that way- yet someone has called you the alienating one. Maybe too many people to count. Maybe they treated you so uncomfortably inhuman that it's all you can understand now, or you've dug yourself into such a deep hole in an attempt to keep safe that you can't remember a person living in the home of your body at all. Being alive is confusing and painful and lonely and loud but living is all there is to being human- you're already there. Just take air into your lungs and breathe. Close your eyes and picture a beautiful sky. You made that. You painted that yourself.

Tagged: @florspinae

Tagging: @lovedlace, @batbrides, and anyone else who wants to do this, just steal it and tag me.

[chronosbled]

{ Random fact about Dickson because my most recent response to Serin made me remember this, but Dickson actually is someone who doesn't swear unlike the rest of the cast from any Resident Evil series.

Instead of swearing, Dickson generally has a habit of laughing during situations that many would find reasonable to swear, such as loosing a tricky target they've been tracking for weeks. If he isn't laughing though, he has a bad habit of biting his bottom lip or tousling his hair in irritation, yet despite those two telling signs... you can't ACTUALLY tell that Dickson is irritated due to him doing said things with a smile on his face. He merely appears to be doing so in a more... bashful (for lack of a better word) sense rather than irritance or annoyance.

The only time you will ever catch Dickson actively swear is when he's completely and 100% livid to the point he is basically unhinged. The best way to tell when Dickson is at this state is by looking at his appearance. His appearance will consist of: messy tousled hair (not in it's usual fashion), disorderly clothes (such as his shirt being untucked or partially buttoned, his jacket halfway hanging off of his body, his tie (when he has one on) being extremely loose), his smile will either be completely gone or spread in a crooked way from ear to ear, his eyes will hold a manic look to them, his hands/fingers will constantly twitch, and you will always find his hands touching either his head or his face (sometimes he'll even pull at his own hair). Along with the sudden swearing, he will grow extremely hostile and throw around anything he can get his hands on.

The only other time you can find Dickson swearing is if he's genuinely just in a good mood and messing around or when he's being a little shit head and wants to talk shit about something/someone. }

[chronosbled]

"You can drink it this time. It doesn't have poison." for Dickson from his beloved maybe to be wife <3

☣ — SUDDEN SOUND OF MELODIC VOICE CATCHES HIS ATTENTION, royal blue irises slowly making their way from various documents scattered across desk before finally resting upon the glass being bestowed to him by the other, taking but a few seconds to stare at the contents as if analyzing it. Not because he was skeptical of the other, but because it was simply in his nature to analyze everything. Smile slowly begins to spread across his features as he reaches his hand forward, taking the glass and keeping his fingers pressed against it's cold surface rather firmly. Oh, how many times had it been since his beloved wife tried to poison him? How many times has she said those exact lines before he found himself choking upon his own blood? He honestly had lost count, but that never stopped him from drinking the concoction anyway — just like he was about to do right now, lips pressed against the rim of the glass.

☣ — "Well, what do you know," his voice rings out cheerfully, "you really didn't poison it this time~!" THERE'S A SMALL FIT OF LAUGHTER THAT FOLLOWS DIRECTLY AFTERWARDS, only causing his smile to grow that much wider. He takes a moment to shift the glass into his left hand so he could use the right to gently cup underneath Crystal's chin, "Guess this means you really do love me, huh~? That or I'll be choking up blood in a few more seconds because you used a slower acting poison, but what's the difference?" Only he would thing being poisoned and being loved were the same thing.

[chronosbled]

{ This manhwa I found is literally a perfect representation of how Dickson's childhood used to be with his parents. Granted he originally didn't react to anything due to his condition, but slowly over time he started to learn what happiness was (you know, before his parents were murdered).

I have never found anything so absolutely accurate before and now Imma cry about it because I finally have. 😭😭

[chronosbled]

RATING YOUR MUSE'S TRAITS:

Compassion:ㅤㅤ 8 / 10

Bitterness: ㅤㅤ10 / 10

Anger: ㅤㅤ10 / 10

Happiness:ㅤㅤ 3 / 10

Politeness:ㅤㅤ 9 / 10

Chivalry:ㅤㅤ 10 / 10

Pride:ㅤㅤ 10 / 10ㅤㅤ

Honesty:ㅤㅤ 8 / 10

Bravery:ㅤㅤ 10 / 10

Recklessness: ㅤㅤ10 / 10

Ambition:ㅤㅤ 10 / 10

Loyalty:ㅤㅤ 10 / 10ㅤ

Love Obsession:ㅤㅤ 10 / 10

Sense of family:ㅤㅤ 10 / 10

Attractiveness:ㅤㅤ 10 / 10 ( he was made to be charming to anyone he encounters )ㅤ

Agility:ㅤㅤ 9 / 10

Sex drive:ㅤㅤ 3 / 10 ( doesn't care much for it but can be worked up to it )

Tagged by: @florspinae

Tagging: @lovedlace, @batbrides, and anyone else who wants to do this, just steal it and tag me.

[chronosbled]

☣ — "That's correct." Body remains in a kneeling position. Royal blue irises casted downwards, not even bothering to look up towards the woman of amethyst colored hair due to the fact he could never view himself on her level. He was a mere servant, while she was the Empress of an entire nation that placed their trust into her hands and depended on her for guidance.

☣ — It was obvious. The way that he presented himself to others was never anything more than someone who was willing to follow orders of those that he deemed a higher priority than his own well-being, thus making him a handy tool. "You have my apologies for my lack of caution when approaching you, and if you wish to serve out a punishment befitting someone like me then I shall not protest against it and will accept whatever you decide. I will be sure to learn from my actions today, that way I don't make the same mistake. I am not accustom to the way things work here. This is no one's fault but my own." His voice is low when he speaks, almost as if he is trying to make himself sound more apologetic and sincere than his usual flat tone of voice.

☣ — "If you wish to permit me my request then I will do as you say. I will not linger any longer than I am allowed." Gaze finally lifts just enough to see the expression of the woman standing before him. A reprieve, if this was something that someone could call such a thing. "I will do everything in my power to respect the laws of your land while I am here, so long as you don't mind correcting me whenever I do something that displeases you."

ㅤㅤ❛❛ㅤㅤSpring.ㅤㅤ❜❜ㅤㅤThe repetition comes in a cycle.ㅤThe most beautiful of them all,ㅤyet the one that has the most sharp thorns dwelling in the shadows a past that stretchers itself into branches towards the future.ㅤA gentle smile is drawn,ㅤas if the finest artist had drawn the best of their works onto a canvas that once was devoid of any fleeting emotion.

ㅤㅤIt doesn’t last.ㅤA raven flickers it’s wings between the two as if was in dire distress of them making distance flapping its wings for seconds that transpire tolling by a grandfather clock nearby,ㅤuntil it rests into the forearm of the woman.ㅤㅤ❛❛ㅤㅤMy guards lacked decorum for not announcing your visit,ㅤbut your insistence in coming right into my home with the intention of knowing me could create a ruckus if someone were to learn about it.ㅤSurely you would know about it,ㅤthus the intention of branching the back gate.ㅤIt’s a dead eye.ㅤTyr's customs are something else.ㅤㅤ❜❜ㅤㅤA clever movement,ㅤperhaps she should try to guard them in a different way rather than letting more people get hurt in the resultanting protection.

ㅤㅤ❛❛ㅤㅤIf they are to blame of your insolence or not that’s for me to decide.ㅤThere are laws one must subject to in this land.ㅤㅤ❜❜ㅤㅤStrict comes the intonation that draws the line between one and another.ㅤA forced exhale,ㅤthe woman turns back to the insides of Infelia.ㅤㅤ❛❛ㅤㅤIf such is your desire to learn more about someone as me,ㅤI shall indulge and your curiosity with the condition that at dusk you must return to Strelitzia.ㅤㅤ❜❜ㅤㅤ

[chronosbled]

☣ — He knows that he probably should never say this, nor should he ever really show such a thing as truth with his actions, but now that he thinks about it... Cinder is pretty hot too.

[chronosbled]

"What are you looking at? Let me see." ehé I bring a curious wife this time for Dickson <3 what shall it be? what is it? all yours to decide.

☣ — BEAKERS FILLED WITH VARIOUS DIFFERENT LIQUIDS BUBBLED OVER A SMALL FIRE, clear tubing connecting from one beaker to the next, creating a clear path for the mixtures to merge together. Experimenting with new chemicals and substances was always something the raven enjoyed, much like a child when acquiring a new video game or a new toy they could play with, there was a never ending source of entertainment. After all, experimenting like this was how he began to develop his own serums and even create his own vaccines for things most people in the medical fields would never want a cure for — especially due to the fact big pharma loves to make bank on the sick and helpless. Not him though, no sir. He didn't want money for the things he would create, instead all he wanted was the recognition he deserved for saving those that needed to be saved. He simply wanted to give people who have nothing a fair chance at survival, hence all his sleepless nights of testing and trying, all his self-torture from experimenting on himself, it was all worth it — even if it brought back horrible childhood memories for him.

☣ — However, HE STILL NEEDED TO KEEP HIS OWN MUTATION IN CHECK AS WELL, thus why he had taken the time to perfect a serum for his specific condition out of his own blood and various other things. Said serum also had the potential to infect others and save them from death, something he did often when coming across those that had been dealt a bad hand in life, granting them a new immortal life as a being connected to him through blood. In a way, one could say he was much like a vampire when passing on their vampiric curse, but this was more like he was recreating the family that he was never allowed to have. Though his attention is drawn towards the woman of sakura colored hair once hearing her speak, head lifting from it's slouched position as he had been looking down at his exposed forearm — syringe in hand as he was about to inject himself — an unusually tired looking smile spreading across his features.

☣ — "It's just a serum I created for my mutation, it helps to keep me more... human... as one would say." HE KEEPS THE SYRINGE IN HAND BEFORE CAREFULLY TURNING IT OVER TO HIS PARTNER, "Go ahead, just be careful not to stick yourself." After all, the last thing he would need is for her to hurt herself because of his own lack of caution, and his lack of proper rest to prevent himself from falling asleep standing at his desk, much like he usually did. He was certain she could see that much in his eyes and the way he was currently presenting himself — hair sloppily tousled everywhere and his shirt somewhat crooked from applying various tests on himself — not to mention he hadn't even tried to cover up all the scars scattered across the exposed parts of his body like he normally did. "You know, you're really cute when you're curious~."

[chronosbled]

You're the pain that I crave, hmm. A drug I shouldn't take. Oh, it drives me insane.

You're my choice of mistake, Rules over me. It's hard to explain, That I can't walk away.

I won't contest, Your touch is God sent. Like a spell, I can't break free. Can't run, it's too late. Got myself here to blame.

'Cause you're my sweet poison. Pour me a potion. You flow through my veins, lust craved. I can't help it, I'm enslaved. Fuck with my psyche.

Poison ivy. Poison ivy. And I want you to stay. Pour me a drink, Poison ivy.

Pleasure that I crave. Can't help it. I'm trapped in your chains. Oh, it drives me insane.

I won't contest, Your touch is God sent. Like a spell, I can't break free. Can't run, it's too late. Got myself here to blame.

'Cause you're my sweet poison. Pour me a potion. You flow through my veins, lust craved. I can't help it, I'm enslaved. Fuck with my psyche.

Poison ivy. Poison ivy. And I want you to stay. Pour me a drink, Poison ivy.

Poison ivy. And I want you to stay. Pour me a drink, Poison ivy.

// @thornicidxs

[chronosbled]

@florspinae

guy who has mistaken adrenaline for love and isn’t interested in correcting the mistake

[chronosbled]

I SOLD YOU TO A PET STORE !

Tagged by: Nobody tagged me once again, I just found it one day and did it because I thought it’d be funny. Tagging: @tenebrispxnea​, @woefulcosmos​, @pixeldream​, and @s-talking​

[chronosbled]

In any case, here: a Crystal slowly coming from behind to bite Dickson.

☣ — CRIMSON-BLUE SPLICED IRISES GAZED DOWNWARD TOWARDS THE VARIOUS ASSORTMENT OF BODIES THAT LAID MOTIONLESS AT HIS FEET, blood still flowing freely from freshly created wounds, forming a rather large puddle that began to stain into the fabric of black boots. Hilt of his sword still held firmly within his grasp meanwhile the blade remained placed against the dirtied ground, not sitting quite upright, but more or less haphazardly tilted — thus making it evident that his mind was elsewhere despite his physical body remaining here, but where his mind was would be a question that goes unanswered if he were ever to be asked — after all, he made it a point in his life to never answer personal questions asked of him. His left hand is slow to rise to his face, moving in a fashion that appeared to be him wiping away sweat, but instead he merely ended up smudging a splatter of blood onto his cheek just below his eye.

☣ — It had been some time since he'd traveled from the Tyr Empire all the way to the Black Rose, LEAVING BEHIND EVERYTHING THAT HE ONCE KNEW AS HIS HOME (OR RATHER IT HAD NEVER BEEN HIS HOME TO BEGIN WITH, perhaps he had only stayed because he had no where else to go) — it wasn't like Randolph would listen to a single thing he had to say after all, instead he encouraged the raven to "behave like the good little heir" he was supposed to be — thus why he had decided to take matters into his own hands. He had grown tired of doing his grandfather's bidding after all, but alas, things weren't much different for him now. He was still using his skills to do another's bidding, but at least this time he could do so with full conviction, especially since he had grown a rather deep soft spoke for one of the leaders of the Black Rose. Though he's pulled from his thoughts the moment he hears someone approaching him from behind. Normally he would turn with the instinct to fight, to protect himself, but this time he did no such thing. Instead he simply allowed the other to draw closer until delicate fingertips gently pulled the back half of his mask down, followed by the sudden sensation of teeth piercing into the soft flesh on the back of his neck, earning a slight grunt to escape from pressed lips hidden behind black fabric, irises moving ever so slowly to the side in attempt to look at the culprit.

☣ — CRYSTAL SLEVANT, leader of the Spring Layer of the Black Rose. The very woman that struck fear into the hearts of many with a simple usher of her name, much like his grandfather. There's silence between the two for what seems like a few moments, almost as if he had to drop the act of a mass murdered and get back into the character of a love-struck fool, "I wasn't expecting you to check on me during my task... let alone bestow such a reward unbefitting of me," that much is evident given how his voice still had yet to shift from it's low tone to a much softer one. "As you can see, I have taken care of the spies just as you have ordered. If you so wish it, I am more than ready to take on another task for you, my queen." With that, he takes a small step forward and away from the female, finally turning around to face her before kneeling down, gaze lowered towards blood soaked boots. Yet despite all his grandstanding, he could seem to hide the slight shade of color that had spread to the tips of his ears.