i wonder if you look both ways when you cross my mind

POSTED: Fri Jul 12, 2019 10:59 pm

i can be needy, way too damn needy

Alejandra had been looking forward to her afternoon off for several reasons, but chiefly it was because of the narrative her daydreaming had conjured up.

In the wake of Narcissa's miscarriage, there was much more misery and tension suffocating the Greygrief household than usual. Both of her masters were upset (and disappointed, which seemed a more appropriate term for the would-be mother), and Aly felt as though they channeled their dismay by bullying their servant — which they always did, but her mind twisted it to be worse than it ordinarily was.

So, in her infinite boredom, the wolfdog often thought of her family; though they were worlds away from her now, and thus they began to drift further and further away from their mind, however subtle the separation was. More recently she began to imagine her fellow slaves Odalis and Silas, how gentle they acted to her and resilient they were to have survived in this horrid place for so long. She longed to cross paths with them again, even if it were only in servitude. But moreso than any of these, she thought of the graying man, the man with the vivid eyes.

It had been some time since they initially met, but long after she left him did her mind wander about him. As much as they had discussed, there were still so many mysteries that eluded her. What was Till's story? Had he always lived in Salsola? Why did he have so many children?

Stranger still was how her mind ran with fantasies that strayed from the truth: in her daytime hallucinations and even in her nightly dreams she clung to what she remembered of his person — the eyes most notably, but also the scars littering his arms and the Hand of Eris branded on his neck — and to the kindness, whether false or not, he had shown her. Clearly, even his brief moment of animalistic behaviour had been warped in her naive mind, instead bending around the warmness he had addressed her with, and Aly found herself itching to visit him again.

Of course, given her status in the kingdom, she felt it wise not to come to him empty-handed. Besides, nice as he had been, a little gift couldn't hurt and would show him how appreciative she was, and perhaps she would stay in his good graces. Luckily, she had spare bolts of cloth in her backpack, a dark blue that was leftover from a dress she had crafted months prior. Eagerly she stitched the fabric into a simple creation: a scarf. It was about the only thing the amount of cloth allowed her to do, anyway, but hopefully he would still receive her offering nonetheless.

As an afterthought, the girl donned different clothes herself for the occasion: the same royal blue dress of which the fabric was from. Perhaps the gesture wouldn't come across as manic; she merely... wanted to look nice for the man. Wasn't that it? Surely that was it.

"Anytime you need anything, just come to the Old Wall that lay right at the borders of the Ruins."

She found his house with some difficulty, though that was mostly because she was still somewhat unfamiliar with the layout of the area. Nonetheless, she stopped in front of the door, hesitating for just a moment before her dark hand rapped against the door in a knock; she receded from it afterwards, standing a considerate distance from his abode as she quickly smoothed out her simple dress and ran her fingers through her hair nervously. Her other hand held the gift behind her back, and she shifted back and forth on her toes as she sniffed the air, trying for his scent.

Hopefully this was his house, or she would feel incredibly foolish.

tell me how good it feels to be needed

Till! let's goooo >:) [+600]

the line begins to blur
Salsola
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veldt
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flowers of naivety

POSTED: Sun Jul 14, 2019 2:07 am

OOC - Stayed up way past my bedtime to write this really weird post. *shrugs* WC: 992

Sheltered by ignorance, culled by naiveté

Till was tired this morning, and seemingly well into the afternoon. Something had been bugging him lately, for he felt strange within these past weeks. Since he had ended the life of Nephele, since the death of Ankh, things had been very strange within his heart. He felt different, numb almost, as if there was a coldness that had started to make the tips of his fingers frozen as if it was the dead of winter, as if he had no gloves to cover his pink padded hands from the weather - as if his blood had run cold. He did not feel a fire burning within him, he did not feel anger, or sorrow. He felt...nothing. The feeling was hollow and strange. He wondered if this was normal, if the lack of feeling anything had been something that was because of his age, or if it was because of the recent tragedies. He wondered if it was because of half his children and one of his wives leaving to go to the Outpost, where he could not be with them, he wondered if this hollow feeling had been because he was lonely here, at the Old Wall, away from his newest children and his wife, and daughter. He wondered if the anger had finally dissipated because he just didn't care anymore, or if he had finally just run dry with the love that he had once felt for his family.

Till sat on his perch upon the Old Wall, a place where he had come to both love and hate to sit. It reminded him of Dullahan, of how the man had left him what felt like so long ago now, of their time together, of everything that had happened. He loved this spot for the same reasons. It had filled him with anticipation, hope, and love once upon a time, but now, here, he sat there and felt nothing. No anger, no excitement. Till sat there and stared off into the forest as if it had put him into a trance. He sat there and stared out at the trees for what seemed like hours, until he had seen what he thought to be the eyes of silver and blue staring back at him, but in reality, it had been the eyes of crimson red and a mask of black that had appeared from the depths of the dark forest and heading straight towards Till and his perch.

Spartacus reminded Till of Dullahan very much, and this was something that Till had come to loathe. He loved his boy, but the complicated feelings that he felt was annoying. Today, there was no feeling here, only a hollow chest as his boy had come to him and looked up at him with eyes that were similar - if only darker - to Helena's own crimson eye.

"Good afternoon, Father. What are you doing up there?" asked the prodigal son to his father, whom he had noticed had begun to "white out".

"I'm waiting."

"For?"

"Das Ende."

"Of?" the boy cocked his head at his father in confusion, not knowing what the man was talking about as he blankly stared off into the forest. Till looked off into the distance and swore he could see a hooded figure lingering just out of his eyesight's reach, with a raven perched on his shoulder. Was this numbness just a sign of Till's end?

Till did not answer the boy before he suddenly stood up and came down from the Wall with a swiftness. He stood there for a moment and watched the spot he had been since he was on top of the Wall, but just as the figure had appeared, it had just was easily vanished.

"Are you okay, dad?" asked the son, before Till nodded his head eagerly and turned away from the boy, heading towards the cabin. "Yes my boy, let us go eat some lunch." he spoke with a smile as he grabbed at Sparta's shoulder and lead him inside. Once they were inside, Till and Sparta sat down for lunch. The boy silently went about his business from his successful hunt earlier in the day and once he had a silent lunch with his father, he went up to his room to rest for a bit. Till had moved from the kitchen to his chair that sat before his fireplace, and he relaxed there. His cat, Guts, was quick to join him on the chair, and once the cat was settled in Till's lap, Till's hand went and stroked the cat's shiny onyx fur.

He sat there for a long time, staring into the flames that morphed into the shapes of gods before his eyes. This is where he remained until there was a knock at his door. He sighed then and turned his head away from the flames to look at the door. "Who is bothering me now?" he asked himself under his breath as he got up from his chair and went to the door. He opened it and his eyes came down to look at the servant girl he had met a few weeks back. Still as pretty as ever, he was surprised she would come to his home. He smiled, but still felt hollow as he looked at her with his bright cosmic eyes.

"Alejandra, how nice of you to visit. Please, come in." he spoke politely as he stepped to the side and let her come into his home. He lead her to the living area and motioned for her to have a seat on the love-seat that had luxurious furs lined along it. He took a seat in his own throne-like chair and he smiled to her. "To what do I owe this pleasurable visit from a lovely lady?" he asked as he looked to her, wondering what she had hiding behind her back.


Sparta Speaks

Cancerous words they all say, just get caught in the way


TILL VAN ULRICH
'Cause we were always alone, We were born in the hunter's season
All I really ever wanted was for you to die in the arms of someone
Avvie by kiriska@soulsRPG, signature image by Motth@FA


Salsola
The Henchman
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J
Luperci Witch & Cazador
WINTER IS COMING
HUNTER'S SEASON

POSTED: Mon Jul 15, 2019 11:09 pm

i can be needy, way too damn needy

It seemed her fears were in vain, as they were only a few times before (in Salsola it was right to fear everything, after all); soon after the knock she heard some shuffling inside, murmured words, and his disguised scent became more apparent as he neared the door. It swung open, revealing the man of gray and white fur, and he greeted her with his transfixed cheshire grin that carried so many different meanings behind it. Hopefully this time it was genuine, but Aly really had no way of knowing: reading people was... a challenge.

She lowered her muzzle at him and gave a shy smile, but her tail wagged softly behind her all the same. It was one thing to imagine people she had missed seeing; it was another thing altogether to see them physically standing in front of her, portraying as much warmth and kindness as she had daydreamed in her head. Even if it was all posturing, at least it felt real, even for a moment.

He lead her inside and had her sit on a rather fancy-looking couch, and Alejandra hesitated momentarily before obeying. Was she... allowed to sit on something so nice? But if the Ulrich patriarch had willed it, she would have no choice but to comply. Till seated himself a ways from her on a fancy chair, and Aly found herself fidgeting under his vivid twilit gaze.

"O-Oh, well, I..." Her words sounded hoarse, scattered; she licked her lips and began again, her hands turning over the gift again and again behind her back. "I was... really touched by how nice you were to me the other day, sir. It's... really rare that someone shows me any kindness here, and..." She looked at him slowly, her legs crossing at the ankles and uncrossing again. "I wanted to show you... how much I appreciate that." Maybe she didn't sound like a complete brown noser; but did it matter? If something good happened in her miserable existence, was it a sin to not take it and run?

She revealed the scarf and held it loosely in her lap, turning it over in her hands nervously. Of course, the moment she went to present the gift to him, she found herself scrutinizing her work for imperfections (even if they didn't exist; she had taken a lot of time to make sure the piece was flawless). Nevertheless, she went to stand but then froze — should she wait for his word to move?

But Till gave her a small nod, a gesture to approach. Aly quickly rose from the couch and gingerly stepped towards him, the gift held out in her dark hands.

"It's a scarf." She laughed anxiously. "I don't have a lot of fabrics or materials with me here so I couldn't make something... nicer... but I — I hope you like it." She felt her face flush, her heart fluttering in anticipation. Second thoughts bombarded her mind: was it a pitiful excuse for a present? Would he even humor her with a response? Should she just flee now before she faced his response? Do I look stupid in this dress? But she stood still as a stone, her sense of servitude demanding she wait for some sort of dismissal or demand, even if her legs shook badly with jitters.

tell me how good it feels to be needed

:> [+500]

the line begins to blur
Salsola
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veldt
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flowers of naivety

Salsola