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blacknoise
I don't have kik.
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Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
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Post by blacknoise on Oct 15, 2015 20:32:53 GMT
Timore walked gently through the halls of Theolandra's palace, a thumping sound erupting from the floor with every thud of his large, clawed feet. More condensed than he had been in decades, Timore was feeling especially confident. Hours before, he had absorbed multiple of his projections. The incubators were filling up faster than expected, the entire world was much more afraid this half of the century. But then again, should he be surprised? The ominous feelings in the air helped his work so greatly.
But, he wondered, why did the feelings hang in the air like so? He could not have caused them all. Though he'd like to think his reach so far and strong, Timore tended to keep his power consolidated. As he neared Theolandra's chambers, he knocked hard upon the door twice before stepping back.
He made no acknowledgement of any of her personnel nor guards, he had no concern of them. If they attacked him, he would destroy them in an instant. But he doubted any of them held enough bravery in their hearts to attack a physical manifestation of the demon that haunted the backs of their worst nightmares. Regardless, he wished no ill will to Theolandra, if he did, he certainly wouldn't meet her in this sort of scenario.
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Post by Lev on Oct 15, 2015 21:26:43 GMT
Theolandra sat at the desk in her personal chambers, looking over numerous papers that outlined the daily activities and movements within the kingdom that required her attention. She wouldn't dare to complain aloud the weight of her duties, but she couldn't help but notice the increasing amount of matters to attend to each day. For now it only seemed like an increase in smaller, trivial problems. It wouldn't stay that way, she feared. That's when she heard two knocks at the door and twisted in her chair to face the threshold.
"M-milady.. I- We.." An older guard that was stationed outside held the hilt of his sword uncertainly.
His glance jumped from the queen to the horrifying stranger, wanting to do his job but nearly paralyzed with fear over the being that was Timore. Palace guards and staff had seen stranger things occur in the palace since Azalea's last visit, but this was more than any of them could comfortably accommodate. Theolandra motioned for the older man to leave - which he happily agreed to do - and close the door. Then silence. The meaning for the Firstborn's visit hung in the air, unspoken.
"I thought I felt eyes peering over my shoulders," the queen said dryly, commenting on Timore's stalking nature. "What prompted your visit to my chambers, brother Timore?"
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Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
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blacknoise
I don't have kik.
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Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
August 2015
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Post by blacknoise on Oct 18, 2015 6:35:38 GMT
Timore made no movement to indicate he heard Theolandra. Instead, the faceless one walked on past the Queen and towards the windows at the end of her chambers. Looking out to the people milling about outside the palace, he finally answered.
"Oh, you know, I have been wandering to and fro across the surface, watching all that goes on. Have you considered your servant, Neala, how there is none like her in Etirath? Have you considered giving her your mark?" To be talking about such things in a nonchalant manner, Timore was certainly treading upon thin ground. The mark of a Divine was not something discussed lightly, not was the insinuated fact that Theolandra had one to give a lighthearted question. His voice almost inciting, something about Timore seemed more upset than normal.
Gone was the groveler, in private the monster came out. It was ready to feed, but it would starve here. Something more important was on the shadow's mind.
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Post by Lev on Oct 19, 2015 19:10:07 GMT
At the mention of her name Neala's eyes dilated, and she could feel her lips start to crack like a parched lakebed. On the opposite end of the room, in the corner nearest Theolandra, the dark young woman sat on pins and needles behind a tall dressing wall. The only thing shielding her from the Father of Fear was thin panels of decorated wood and the hope that he couldn't hear her breathing. When her Lady told her to hide, Neala thought she could steel her nerves and perform without question. She hadn't known who was coming, or why she had to disappear, but if her queen needed a second set of eyes and ears then Neala would willingly oblige. Then he arrived.. And what did he mean, not like her? Mark?
"I think you speak of matters beyond your concern, Timore." Theolandra insinuated with a nonchalant tone. "The path of my attendant," she corrected, "shares no consequence with you."
Appreciation aside, the Lady's words only strengthened the idea that Neala was in danger - especially before Timore. What was a mark? Why did the lesser deity care enough to ask? The conversation would start to carry on and leave her questions behind, so she listened.
"Tell me what's truly under your skin," Theolandra continued. "It must be important if fear can finally fear itself."
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inherit
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Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
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blacknoise
I don't have kik.
273
Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
August 2015
blacknoise
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Post by blacknoise on Oct 19, 2015 20:53:47 GMT
Slowly, Timore turned towards Theolandra, silent for a moment. Something akin to a grin spread across his featureless face as a mouth comprised of a thousand misplaced teeth opened forth. As it closed, he spoke again, his voice seeming to come from his general direction, rather than any specific place on his face. A voice unlike any other, but in no good way, Timore sounded akin to chalk being scraped across a board.
"Yes, yes. Do I seem afraid? I don't mean to be. See, I've been thinking for a long, long time, experimenting too at times. Oh, but I disgress. Have you observed the seasons, dearest Theolandra? The summers have been long, too long, and the winters short, too short. The end of eras are rarely long and drawn out. You do not remember, but the seasons changed like this just before the bloodborne king's rise to power."
Timore quieted, fingers cracking without moving. The Grey diety became as featureless as he entered and quieted himself. Without a word, he began walking towards the dressing divider. His steps were unlike before, completely silent, as his shadow seemed to encompass the divider. Reaching out, he rested a hand against the thin walls and continued speaking, his tone and voice quality mimicking that of Thunder and rolling stones.
"The time approaches in which a champion would be most useful. To give your power to a lesser is a necessary evil. Your, attendant, is a most diligent candidate. If you will not take her, perhaps I will-"
At that, his hand slipped through the divider like that of a phantom, spindly hands mimicking that of thousand churning razorblades reached out towards Neala.
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Post by Lev on Oct 20, 2015 17:29:31 GMT
Theolandra had risen from her chair when Timore turned to face her from the windows. Her arms hung at her sides, hidden under the drapes of her long sleeves and cloak - neither peaceful nor hostile in their pose, but ready for anything that the Firstborn might try. He'd be a fool to attempt any kind of attack in such a venue, but the queen wouldn't put anything passed him.
"Deliver your point, Timore." The empty substance of his rant through history did little to interest the queen. Try as she might to prove his unevolved tactics couldn't sway her, he still tried. for the first time in ages, the manipulative being would finally gain a foothold.
Neala could feel the scraping of the Firstborn's feet against the wooden floors as he lumbered toward her corner of the room, each step like a rake against her skin. Mention of champions and candidates spilled from his toothy mouth like a poisonous wine. Its aroma and sheen was alluring, but to taste it would ensnare the drinker without hope of escape. Neala had to cover her mouth to keep her ragged breathing under control. Of course that didn't matter in the slightest; she already knew that her cover was blown. The Lady knew this too. Threat against Neala's safety was the Ace that Timore had up his sleeve.
"If you will not take her, perhaps I will-"
An abrupt blast of light shot forth toward the shadowy phantom's arm. The blaze was bright and hot like the first flash of sunlight through sleeping eyelids, the kind that pierces through closed eyes but worse. Its brilliance illuminated the room entirely, casting away every shadow and ounce of darkness. An attack so short and erratic would hardly wound the deity but would be enough to force a retreat from the corner-space. When the blinding light was gone Neala could see her Lady standing to the side, he arm thrust outward and palm open in Timore's direction. An alien anger burned in her eyes that the attendant couldn't recognize.
"You think to play me for some game? Listen to my words, brother. Do not mistake me for my mask. You forget that light on the water hides the deep, cold dark beneath. If you touch that girl or any other I will make a game of you," Theolandra hissed, unmoving.
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Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
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blacknoise
I don't have kik.
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Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
August 2015
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Post by blacknoise on Oct 20, 2015 19:55:48 GMT
The ancient diety froze upon seeing the light. Pulling back his hand, he absent-mindedly observed his seared hand as the shadows slowly came back to his body. For a moment, Timore could be seen as but the outline of a shadow, little traces of darkness highlighting the being. Slowly, smoke gathered, filling him in once more. However, rather than that of a faceless monster, a strange, blonde haired man took his place. His skin cracked about his face and hands, the only parts visible as an unnatural coat materialized about him.
The man looked emotionlessly towards Theolandra as he turned from the divider and the woman who hid behind it. Slowly, he looked at his hand as it pulsated with a strange, deep blue energy. Without looking towards Theolandra, he spoke to her. His voice was frighteningly human, as though he were just any other man.
"It has been a long time since I last laid eyes on my own form..."
Shadows surged to the being, covering the man and making the monster once more. Shrugging, he added nonchalantly as he tried to hide the self loathing in his voice.
"I don't like it."
Turning back towards Theolandra once more, he continued. His voice taking an unnatural quality once more.
"You are right, little sister, that your shining exterior hides a darkness. However, like a child staring down the village well, you fear how cold it really is, how dark could truly get, and how deep it could possibly go if you were to fall down. There are powers in this world that move beyond my sight, they act beyond what I can observe. Some days, I miss everything, enraptured in my own work on a plane of my own-"
Timore stopped, something uncharacteristic coming over him. Reaching around, he pulled the divider away and stepped back. Crooking his head, he made the motion for Neala to get out. Once she left, Timore asked Theolandra,
"What are you doing, Theo?"
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Sept 9, 2017 19:51:41 GMT
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Post by Lev on Oct 21, 2015 19:38:54 GMT
Theolandra bore harshly into the matching blue eyes of her brother - true in almost every sense of the word - as if daring him to make a move. In her existence the queen had never truly seen Timore's unshielded form, but she knew what he was - who he was. Seeing her own characteristics reflected in him was further confirmation. His lineage, their relation, could not be denied with any amount of resentful scowls. Strangely, the queen felt safer knowing that the fearsome deity was shrouded once more, so she lowered her hand.
"You are right, little sister, that your shining exterior hides a darkness. However, like a child staring down the village well, you fear how cold it really is, how dark could truly get, and how deep it could possibly go if you were to fall down. There are powers in this world that move beyond my sight, they act beyond what I can observe. Some days, I miss everything, enraptured in my own work on a plane of my own- What are you doing, Theo?"
Neala shuddered when the dressing divider was knocked to the floor, exposing her to Timore's haunting face. She expected her life to end on the spot, but the deity demanded her leave instead. She did leave, fleeing the room without a second thought or hesitant glance toward her Lady. Theolandra cursed herself for allowing the event to play out as it did. Neala would deserve an explanation for what had happened, and a reason for the nightmares she'd be having for coming nights. A heavy sigh flared her nostrils after the two were left alone.
"We all have our own purpose, Timore." That was a lie. She'd fulfilled her purpose decades ago. Sayre was gone but she was left behind with no trumpet to march to. Everything she was had been a result of her own leaderless choices. What did that make her? "People need faith. I lead them to that faith.." Shame pulsed through her after such a weak answer.
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Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
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blacknoise
I don't have kik.
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Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
August 2015
blacknoise
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Post by blacknoise on Oct 21, 2015 20:14:40 GMT
Timore ignored the burning stare of Theolandra, barely feeling her fiery blue eyes as he stepped past her. Walking towards the doors, he leaned against them as he turned to face the woman. He towered over her, but their conversation was as two equals. Theo feared many things, Timore could easily see this. She feared failure, she feared purpose, she feared even her own darkness.
But she did not fear him.
Sighing deeply, the being crooked his head and began speaking.
"Lie to the people, lie to your friends, lie to me. But do not lie to yourself, little sister. This world is changing, and not for the better. Shall we change with it? Or shall we go against the grain? I, for one, will not accept the fate created for me. But you have fulfilled your use, your existence continues on, but why? The Divines play with you like a toy, but soon they will tire of you and abandon you.
I have had a vision, one I never wished for. I care not for mortals nor their world, but I will not have it said that I stood by and watched the only one with whom I can relate be cast aside." Timore was silent after that, simply looking at Theo. He watched her closing, observing every minut detail. Though he'd never directly admit it, and he'd do everything in his power to prove otherwise, he cared for Theolandra.
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Post by Lev on Oct 22, 2015 15:02:06 GMT
Theolandra couldn't help feeling indignant toward Timore's words. Deep in her bones she knew what she was becoming - had been for decades - and she didn't want to believe it. But it couldn't be ignored when he reminded her of that nagging fear, the blanket of ignorance couldn't protect her from the chilly truth of it. The queen didn't want to accept the short straw fate had pulled for her, that the Divines had crafted for her. Unlike Timore, she cherished the people she had protected and the kingdom she helped them build. If she was only a pawn in some higher folly, what would that mean for Etirath?
The suppressed seed of doubt had been unearthed inside of her, and a flood of emotions tried to bury it again: trembling fear, defiant anger, disquiet, betrayed sadness, seething darkness. While her inner mind raged the expression on her face remained as stoic as possible, expect for the occasional glance she stole toward the painted glass window. What interested her most was the vision that Timore spoke of, and the care that he claimed for her future. Everything uttered could have been a clever ploy to manipulate her, but-
"What is this vision, brother.. and what do you intended to do with it?"
If there was a trap planned, Theolandra was standing incredibly close to the bait.
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Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
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blacknoise
I don't have kik.
273
Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
August 2015
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Post by blacknoise on Oct 22, 2015 19:07:11 GMT
"What is this vision, brother.. and what do you intended to do with it?"
His vision. Fire and thunder. Death, mayhem, unstoppable chaos. These things flashed before his mind's eye as he hesitated, watching Theolandra. The vision was so powerful, so meaningful, it was more than a glimpse of the future, it was his future self giving him direction, purpose.
He knew her help would be vital, in fact, the help of all the lesser divines and the great divines themselves would be vital. All he needed to do was give her direction. Timore had Theo right where he wanted her, convinced, listening to him, putty in his hands. All he needed to do-
...
No.
He would not.
This battle would be his alone. He would not share this burden. A darkness shrouding over his visage, Timore spoke,
"Nothing. I, I will handle it myself. You are too young, you would not understand."
At that, he turned to leave. How could he ask her for help? How could she understand how he felt? Among all the lesser Divines, Timore was alone in his feelings. How could he describe a hatred so strong, so deep, and so painful to one who did not understand hate. Timore knew the comparison, it would be as if he asked Theolandra to describe love.
Love, the feeling of unconditional caring for another, the mindset that you would do anything to protect them, anything to see them happy. The idea that you would die for someone else. It repulsed Timore, he did not, could not, understand that sort of thinking. In this, he knew that Theolandra would not and could not understand him. So he would not trouble her any longer. The seed of doubt had been planned, perhaps, hopefully, that was enough.
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Sept 9, 2017 19:51:41 GMT
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Post by Lev on Oct 28, 2015 22:21:27 GMT
"You are too young, you would not understand."
Theolandra was baffled. Timore seemed to put so much effort into dragging out her less savory instincts, her interest, only to pull back and retreat before sharing anything. Perhaps there was nothing to share at all, and the Fear God was only dangling his feet in the shallower waters. Her temper boiled regardless of the horror's reasoning, so she spoke to his hunched back.
"So there is no vision, brother. You've spun another beautiful lie with learned words for the sake of your prying games." It could've been a bluff, but it could've been the truth. Theolandra doubted that The Eldest had any care for what others thought of his integrity, but if this vision truly held any value with Timore she was relying on him to deny her accusations. "I congratulate you for stirring me, but you have won little. I am not the only one who has fulfilled my purpose. Divines delight fearlessly in the trivial nightmares you send to children," she continued, finishing with a vindictive tone.
Pregnant silence hung between them like a thick fog, the kind that sticks to the face and swells the nostrils. When she thought he might not respond to the personal attack, the queen returned to more productive forms of persuasive communication. It was a guess, a long shot, a leap of faith.. but she acted on the belief that Timore was truly seeking help.
"There is only one thing worse than fighting with allies.. and that is fighting without them."
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Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
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blacknoise
I don't have kik.
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Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
August 2015
blacknoise
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Post by blacknoise on Oct 29, 2015 20:11:22 GMT
Timore stood silent for a moment, looking at his 'hand' and twirling his phantom-esque fingers through the air. When Theolandra finished speaking, a low, quiet laugh rumbled through the being. It was a foreign motion to the body, clearly, as it shuddered, shook, and lost form with every contraction. The noise coming from him could barely be called laughter, however, resembling more a mesh of the scream of a giant forest ape and the cackle of a desert scavager.
Snapping towards Theolandra, the faceless head of Timore rotated until it was completely upside down, similar to an owl's. He spoke quietly, first,
"I've, 'won' little? Hah, hah haha hahaha! You speak of this as though I am trying to convert you, convince you of something..." Rage exploded from Timore, his body darkening as the being suddenly raised his voice into a deafening shout. A thousand eyes opened from a thousand sockets on his form, wildly looking around as he made large, sweeping gestures throughout his shouting. Voice like a lion, he continued,
"There is nothing to win! You speak of the Divines, you speak of fighting with allies, you speak of things which you know NOTHING OF! You poor, pitiful excuse for a fool of a handpuppet! I came here to warn you of danger, how could I be so blind! Useless, hardened clay, you have been molded into a tool whose only purpose was to be discarded! I have no reason to remain here any longer, find your own way!
But heed me well, Theolandra!" Timore struck forth a hand, casting a blast of power into the wall nearby. Words burned themselves into the stone, chiseled if by invisible hands, they wrote the prophecy of the Dark One.
"LAMENT, for I shall take your dreams! LAMENT, for I shall take your children! LAMENT, for I shall take your gods!" At that, Timore was gone.
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