LilReaper_
\ um, i totally forgot that threads don't work that way TT
forgot i'm supposed to reply to the messages you send me on your mb not mine...
@mythoIogy
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⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ❛ THE WOLF THAT LIES ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀IDLE SHALL WIN. *
⠀⠀⠀⠀* vii. selective writings, mythical plot lines & literate 3rd person perspective. this is not mediocre writing, nor is it intended for everybody to comprehend. the language may appear archaic, the themes are complex, and the ideas layered beneath symbolism, theology & myth. interpretation is left to the person [interacting]. if you find difficulty in navigating dense language, philosophical thoughts or allegorical narrative, do not engage with this account. this muse/work does not slow itself for convenience, nor will it simplify what was never meant to be simple. viewer’s discretion is advised. alas, remember to read your bible if you haven’t. there won’t be footnotes.
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ❛ THE WOLF THAT LIES ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀IDLE SHALL WIN. *
⠀⠀⠀⠀* iv. to clarify; sverrir being extremely cold does not mean he is rude. the meaning difference to the depth of comprehension. as in, his ability to empathize with humans is not the same. meanwhile, others /might/ relate to pain, this muse however will not. that does not mean he is inhuman, it merely points to the fact he is from a different world entirely.
⠀⠀⠀⠀* v. romance or for a better lack of words; intimacy with mortals is as much off limits as love in itself is forbidden in his world. the nature of his existence does not allow him to form a ⠀⠀⠀ ﹝ ︡CONNECTION. ﹞ ⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀* vi. as for the sort of man he is. it is known and indicated by a close source, the creature is known to be extremely cunning. the nature of his obsession derives from his intense level of hungers that drives both the mortal part of him, including the spirit to ⠀⠀⠀ ﹝ ︡OBTAIN ﹞ ⠀⠀ what is profound and known as; peace. which hints at the insanity; that ones he finds something, he refuses to let go.⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ CHARACTER STUDY BELOW.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ﹟ ┈┈┈┈┈
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ❛ THE WOLF THAT LIES ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀IDLE SHALL WIN. *
⠀⠀⠀⠀* i. sverrir is a former captive of hel. this is extremely important to keep in mind. this is not an ordinary muse, and to put him in the same capacity as rurik or any other muse, strips him of his true existence. the nature of sverrir is ⠀⠀⠀ ﹝ ︡UNKNOWN ﹞ ⠀⠀to mankind.
⠀⠀⠀⠀* ii. as the folklore foretells, the warrior is known to be extremely cold, alluding to a sense that his comprehension of human touch is /OFF/ course. hel has stripped him of his senses entirely, but after rebirth, he is subjected to extreme longitivtiy of physical pain. the ⠀⠀⠀ ﹝ ︡VEIL ﹞ ⠀⠀of calculations shows, the true depth of his humanity has sank below, eluding him to merciless. there is a means of end to everything in his mind.
⠀⠀⠀⠀* iii. keep in mind the time he has spent being locked away has completely changed and transformed sverrir. whilst he is the keeper of the graveyards, a task of duty assigned to him by the elders of [H]: that job is what makes him survive in the modern world. as the keeper, sverrir is constantly on the move, shifting between two worlds. the deviant motive of his is to keep away from humans as far as possible, and the slightest bit of contact throws him back in danger. hel is one thing he avoids very much, and as much as his job involves in being ⠀⠀⠀ ﹝ ︡NIGHT ﹞ ⠀⠀ the collective damage still comes at a cost that he has to be involved in the human world pretty much 24/7.
\ um, i totally forgot that threads don't work that way TT
forgot i'm supposed to reply to the messages you send me on your mb not mine...
// ohhh yes...
(( smoke, thick and expanding filled the small space of the chapel, it's scent overpowering the scent of incense that previously flowed still from the hanging, golden and silver thuribles. the few wooden pews were consumed by the rambling fire, the sacred place synthia had come to pray turning into an unavoidable trap. but, for what reason? ))
(( coughs fell from her parted lips, her veil having completely fallen from her head. she quickly removed her shoes, letting her bare feet touch the ground, her black world erupting with an overwhelming amount of energy. her mind rang as more smoke filled her lungs by the minute, making her concentration waver. she began walking away from the intense crimson of the fire, feet guiding her towards the more yellow hues of nature that were muted. she was hoping the windows where the source of that energy. she slammed her body towards it, her shoulder pressing against the stained glass of the intricate and small windows of the chapel. she was lucky this chapel wasn't as small as the previous ones. more coughs were poured from her lips as her lungs seemed to be boiling with the strain of keeping her conscious, her world faltering as she desperately slammed her fisted against the stained glass, the force penetrating the skin of her hands, blood escaping from the bruises that formed to open wounds. ))
help ! (( she managed to shout, voice deeper and strained, coughs pouring from her lips immediately after. the fire was catching up to her, it's intense warmth pressing against her body eve without having reached her yet. a wavering breath left her lips as she continued to slam the chapel's window until finally the glass cracked under her repeated pressure, shards piercing through her pale skin, making her let out a muffled cry. light surrounded her wounds, her own divinity healing them as fast as it was able to and yet it was only so much that her power could provide for her. ))
(( she had been trapped inside the burning chapel, it's door getting locked before she had been able to react. it is not every day someone would target a saint under the protection of the holy church and yet it was not impossible or improbable while taking the current situation into account. ))
God.. (( she breathed, her hand clenching the golden cross that hang around her neck before she punched the window more, shards flying everywhere, colorful and sharp, sneaking into her blonde locks and brushing against her skin, leaving their mark on her face and neck. marks that her power was bound to heal, if only she was able to survive. and that was what she tried, with all the might and courage she possessed, even as her world faded, her consciousness flickering like the flame that had reached the end of a candle. ))
and? [..] is that all you have to say to me?
⠀⠀ ⠀
⟮ a perpétuas thought crossed his mind.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀━━━━━━
⠀⠀ @EATSEYE⠀⠀ ⠀ of ruins to be; cremated by the hands of this woman, mend back to pieces until fully whole of a starburst. such is the frivolous thought of the knight. rebellion coated her lips like honey. the look in her moss green eyes was one that’d left his soul haunting. to be a man of such deep scrutiny of love; of deep affection. he wondered.. what he did to be /put/ into that position. he watched the track of her eyes with deep, curling satisfaction, and raised his right hand to palm his face, dragging the heel of it slowly across his brow as though to quiet the restless turn of thoughts. ⟯ very well. ⟮ sverrir murmured low under his breath, watching her with unabated amusement. with a long press of his boots against the old stone floor, he pushed the chair back. the wood groaned faintly as he rose to his full height, shoulders settling into their natural breadth. turning for a moment, a signal was given in the quiet language shared between him and his men. no words were needed. a subtle lift of his chin, the brief flick of two fingers. sverrir bid them a good night all the same, reminding them where they were to meet in three day’s time. turning to face anastasia once more, he merely gave her a look. a pause lingered there, brief yet weighted, before he made his way through the parting crowd. tankards clattered, laughter rang somewhere behind him, but men shifted aside all the same when he passed. he awaited by the door, having grown irked by the press of mortals forming all around him. the place was hell for such close proximity of unwanted company, yet all it ever took was a single icy look to keep them at bay. it is then he turned to look back, one hand gripping the iron handle of the door. the wood creaked softly beneath his hold as cold night air slipped through the narrow seam. with his free hand, he extended it for her to take. ⟯
ID: @mythoIogy * a murmur of laughter carried from somewhere behind him. anastasia’s gaze slid past sverrir to his men gathered at the tables nearby, and the sharp look she gave them made her displeasure plain. the bastards were enjoying the spectacle far too much. she shifted in her chair, drawing the damp folds of her cloak closer around her shoulders before returning her attention to him. days old scruff shadowed his jaw, dark and uneven, and she noticed absently that he looked in need of a proper shave. her gaze wandered despite herself, slipping lower to the exposed line of his throat where the collar of his tunic had fallen loose. bronze skin caught the firelight there, warm and familiar, and the hollow at the base of his throat made her breath falter. realizing where her attention had drifted, she looked away at once and lifted her hand to her mouth as though wiping away the thought itself. * * the tavern felt suddenly too crowded. too many eyes circled them, too many voices slurred together in drunken songs and rough laughter. the sharp scent of ale and wet wool hung thick in the air. she dragged a slow breath through her nose and wiped at her face again. her fingers came away damp, and only then did she remember the storm outside. rain had soaked through her hair and cloak when she entered, and now the chill crept slowly through her shoulders and down her spine. the room was warm enough, yet she felt the cold settle stubbornly in her bones. perhaps it was not the rain at all. perhaps it was the unsettling truth that even now, after all that had passed between them, this man still had the power to leave her entirely unsteady. *
ID: @mythoIogy * a pulse stirred beneath her skin, quickening in her veins beneath the weight of his dark, molten gold eyes. the look of them unsettled her in a way she refused to show. instinctively she shivered, though the tavern was warm with firelight and the press of bodies. every reckless thought rose at once, urging her to reach across the narrow table, seize him by the collar, strike him for the long silence he had left behind, and then drag him nearer until no breath nor space remained between them. instead, she forced her hands together in her lap and tightened her fingers until the feeling passed. her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him. sverrir looked worn, the harsh lines of travel and sleepless nights etched plainly into his face, and the sight of it made her swallow against the knot rising in her throat. * no. * the word came quietly. she swallowed again to steady the tremor in her voice. * i will not return until i have what is owed to me, sverrir. * she drew a slow breath and willed the stiffness from her shoulders. her gaze fell to her hands where they rested against her skirts, and she carefully untangled her fingers, turning one ring against another simply to keep them occupied and spare herself the full weight of his stare. it felt deeply unfair that after so many seasons apart the ache of him had not faded. she had missed him far more than pride allowed her to admit, and still he pushed her away as though the years between them had meant nothing at all. at length she lifted her eyes again. reaching across the rough table she caught hold of the heavy jug of ale and raised it to her lips. the bitter scent turned her stomach, yet she tipped her head back and forced down a long swallow before setting it down with a faint, unsteady sound against the wood. * s—so?
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ❛ THE WOLF THAT LIES ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀IDLE SHALL WIN. *
⠀⠀⠀⠀* vii. selective writings, mythical plot lines & literate 3rd person perspective. this is not mediocre writing, nor is it intended for everybody to comprehend. the language may appear archaic, the themes are complex, and the ideas layered beneath symbolism, theology & myth. interpretation is left to the person [interacting]. if you find difficulty in navigating dense language, philosophical thoughts or allegorical narrative, do not engage with this account. this muse/work does not slow itself for convenience, nor will it simplify what was never meant to be simple. viewer’s discretion is advised. alas, remember to read your bible if you haven’t. there won’t be footnotes.
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ❛ THE WOLF THAT LIES ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀IDLE SHALL WIN. *
⠀⠀⠀⠀* iv. to clarify; sverrir being extremely cold does not mean he is rude. the meaning difference to the depth of comprehension. as in, his ability to empathize with humans is not the same. meanwhile, others /might/ relate to pain, this muse however will not. that does not mean he is inhuman, it merely points to the fact he is from a different world entirely.
⠀⠀⠀⠀* v. romance or for a better lack of words; intimacy with mortals is as much off limits as love in itself is forbidden in his world. the nature of his existence does not allow him to form a ⠀⠀⠀ ﹝ ︡CONNECTION. ﹞ ⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀* vi. as for the sort of man he is. it is known and indicated by a close source, the creature is known to be extremely cunning. the nature of his obsession derives from his intense level of hungers that drives both the mortal part of him, including the spirit to ⠀⠀⠀ ﹝ ︡OBTAIN ﹞ ⠀⠀ what is profound and known as; peace. which hints at the insanity; that ones he finds something, he refuses to let go.⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ CHARACTER STUDY BELOW.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ﹟ ┈┈┈┈┈
⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ❛ THE WOLF THAT LIES ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀IDLE SHALL WIN. *
⠀⠀⠀⠀* i. sverrir is a former captive of hel. this is extremely important to keep in mind. this is not an ordinary muse, and to put him in the same capacity as rurik or any other muse, strips him of his true existence. the nature of sverrir is ⠀⠀⠀ ﹝ ︡UNKNOWN ﹞ ⠀⠀to mankind.
⠀⠀⠀⠀* ii. as the folklore foretells, the warrior is known to be extremely cold, alluding to a sense that his comprehension of human touch is /OFF/ course. hel has stripped him of his senses entirely, but after rebirth, he is subjected to extreme longitivtiy of physical pain. the ⠀⠀⠀ ﹝ ︡VEIL ﹞ ⠀⠀of calculations shows, the true depth of his humanity has sank below, eluding him to merciless. there is a means of end to everything in his mind.
⠀⠀⠀⠀* iii. keep in mind the time he has spent being locked away has completely changed and transformed sverrir. whilst he is the keeper of the graveyards, a task of duty assigned to him by the elders of [H]: that job is what makes him survive in the modern world. as the keeper, sverrir is constantly on the move, shifting between two worlds. the deviant motive of his is to keep away from humans as far as possible, and the slightest bit of contact throws him back in danger. hel is one thing he avoids very much, and as much as his job involves in being ⠀⠀⠀ ﹝ ︡NIGHT ﹞ ⠀⠀ the collective damage still comes at a cost that he has to be involved in the human world pretty much 24/7.
[ be as you wish to seem. -Socrates. ]
please do reply. I will not overthink it more. it was a trial as I had a vision in mind. I am happy you liked it.
&. i think i told somebody i would do something for them yesterday, like voting& etc.. but, i lowkey forgot YOU and your account. ):
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