𝕯𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖇𝖊 𝖆 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝖕𝖔𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖗 :

@ratpoisons - / starter /

❝  Me ?  Doing  that ?  I  don’t  think  so.  ❞

        ❛ What,  it’s not that bad,  no one ever said you can’t sext the dead.   Right? ❜         Yeah,  he’s entirely serious,  and the vehemence in his expression only hastens as he begins waxing on ouija board ethics.       ❛ Think about it.   People always talk about how spoooooky the whole thing is,  but did they ever stop to think how adventurous the experience can be.   Kinda .  .  . hot under the collar telling you this but,  I’ve done it before.   With great succession,  heh. ❜     Yep.   He’s overwhelmingly serious about that too.

ANNABELLE ‌:

       Seconds away - she’s seconds from turning away from him. From reassuring, she wouldn’t have to bear the sight of him until she chose to. Seconds from a departure much needed. Instead, she discovers herself chained by his words. The intrusive questioning of her actions, as if he had any right to challenge her in any way. He mentions courtesy, his feigned skills in such a matter hard at work to assure she feels trapped. How qualified he is in such an action, this was no secret. Just as it was no secret to her that he was more than he led on to be seen. She remembers brief interactions with him during the passing years. The barely audible words, making himself out to seem faint-hearted when in reality he was a force stronger than most knew. She had suspected it, always had. The distinct force that departed from his body when they stood in the same room. The focused gaze, eyes filled with storms ready to ruin anything in its path. She recalls it all, the heaviness that followed behind him as he departed after an order was given to him - similar to her own. The aura of someone who did as told against their own pleasure; disturbing are the similarities. Like an animal, like a slave with no say, how used to such a feeling she was. She’s forsaken behind the unholy walls - forged into a weapon. Used at their disposal, belittled and decorated with the imagery of a queen. A queen with no rule, a Goddess with no satisfaction. He is just another reminder of the life she did not choose - another reminder of all she loathed and had lost. Somehow, he possessed the upper hand - how that left a bitter taste in her mouth.

      Manicured nails obtain a home in tender flesh, digging into skin that will soon heal. It’s a reminder, a reminder to not lose herself in her contempt for him. A reminder to maintain her composure - instead of letting verdant hues shift to pale grey. A warning to all that who threaten her, a reminder that she is not human. The piercing of soft palms is a reminder of the role she’s forced to play. Compliant, understanding - weak. Far from this she is, she recognizes this as much as they do. A threat dormant in her grief - regaining its own strength as the pieces of a broken heart trying to find their order yet again. Haunted by memories, plagued by her reality. All that kept her going, all that made her feel human, gone. Taken from her, forced away. How bitter she is, left cold by the absence of all that made her life worth living. She forces herself to stand tall or as tall as she can due to her situation. A true beauty, refusing to allow the broken pieces of whom she is to become visible to the eyes burning through her. No true protection, no one to care for her - no one to remind her of how worthy she is of love. Pathetic perhaps, to allow such connections to define her. Centuries it had been since she genuinely felt moved by anything other than pain and destruction - a feeling experienced by Omega’s presence. Now it is all drowning her, forcing her lungs to try and acquire air. An air that never lasts. Here stands one of many waves that threaten to end it all - adorned in black like death itself.

      Her gaze is that of a viper - focused on his features as his words confine her. Melodic the words that depart from his lips, yet she takes notice of the vindictiveness that drips from each syllable. Hidden in feigned enthusiasm. His tongue sharp enough to slice, cutting through her already damaged soul at the mention of Omega and his supposed lack of loyalty. How dare he? That Goddamn rat believes himself worthy enough to speak of her sole connection to sanity; a world where blood doesn’t need to be shed just to feel something. The sting against her palms intensifies as nails rip through the flesh, surely blood will decorate her nails. Only it’s not the blood of innocents or even those corrupt enough to be deserving of a life taken. No, it’s her own blood. Without physical action he got her to bleed her own blood. What a vile realization. Her gaze is penetrating, her own eyes piercing against his very gaze. He knows, he revels in the knowledge. She can see it in his eyes; it gets him off knowing he has this much control over her. Burning eyes and a clenched jaw give away the truth of how she feels, only briefly. The hatred threatening to spew from her mouth, the rage and violent bitterness she wants to suffocate him in. Unsteady is her heart - threatening to abandon her body as the moment’s pass. How tempted she is to make him bleed; to rip his damn heart out right where they stand.

      There is no trouble imagining such a thing, and she does. She imagines the warmth of crimson liquid trailing down her arm as his heart rests in her hand. Nails wounding the muscle, assuring its final beat. As dark as tar she imagines it to be, how could it be anything other than that? Not worthy of a second thought, or of a second glance. She wants to feel it in her hands; she wants to be the one to look into his eyes as his useless life fades from them. She knows better, however, knows his death wouldn’t be as simple as she wishes it to be. Nonetheless, the thought is tempting. The same thought that pulled her from the realities of the world she took part in, even if for a brief moment. Slow is the movement of her tongue gliding across her bottom lip as she forces her attention to rest on him. Her alert senses bring her back fully, the faint scent of blood lingering. Her own wound, burning - a pain she accepts more than she should. Skin coming together as it heals itself slowly. “Yes, how can I… Forget.” Her words fall slowly from her lips as darkened greens encounter his mix-matched hues. “No one knows loyalty like a Cardinal.” Neatly groomed brows raise slightly before coming together in feigned fascination. “Or patience. After all, so many years of being loyal and patient have truly been beneficial.” Now the malice is evident in her voice - the knowing tone. All wrapped up in feigned sweetness she wishes to make obvious.

      A blaze now burns inside her, a heat that radiates from her flesh. Undoubtedly he could feel it, just as one is able to sense the bitterly cold air that follows her recently. It’s a flame she’s willing to let burn brighter, the ice inside her heart slowly melting as the warmth consumes her. Her disdain for him burns violently. “So I ask, my dear Cardinal… To please practice your patience with me as I handle these relatively significant matters.” She doesn’t move away, she doesn’t turn from him. Rather, she moves closer. The silk and lace adorning her body resting against the black cassock that aided in his importance. “But I promise you, a drink will surely be had between us both. Just as I assure you that I look forward to that moment. It truly is overdue.” Crimson lips shift into a smile, sweeter than expected. “Now, my own loyalties rest with these very important matters. I’ll more than gladly share with you the details of the outcome over that drink.“ There’s a vibrancy behind recently dull eyes as she allows a distance between them both. Elegance follows as she turns from him - pierced skin healed as blood stains porcelain flesh. Her rage threatening to consume her whole as she disappears from sight. Departing from him without allowing words to depart from his lips.

       Her iron clad will was as infuriating as ever.   So was her beauty,  the two juxtaposed like rose and thorn.   She must realise by now how much amusing it is to ensnare such a catch and watch it WRITHE in the palm of his hand.    She’s no fool that’s for certain.    Perhaps there are remnants of a masochist in that vulpine body of hers —— Poor thing.    What a tragedy her life has been,  he thinks.    It’s all she knows.    Despite how pigheaded she could be that’s what made Annabelle such a glorious twist of audacity and,  in his eyes,  weakness.    She was his prey.    Nothing gave the apex predator a higher purpose than to hunt,  maim,  consume,   REPEAT.    That’s how it goes,  isn’t it?    Cardinal Copia had known what it meant to play the former —— he spent many years wearing that facade and perhaps at some time it might have been true but that is a skin he shed aeons ago in lieu of what he had become;   A tyrant.     Wearing the crown atop the pyramid .  .  . Well,  now he lives comfortably in his element adorned with a cold,  callous SMIRK.

         And yes,  oh yes,  he still relishes the shocking exit of Omega Ghoul,  a pillar within the Clergy and a piece on the chessboard that could have eventually come to move Copia from that glossy black square.     Annabelle had resolve,  and constitution.     He would give her THAT at the very least.     But she for so long relied heavily on her crutch and when that crutch lost his footing   ( it’s quite embarrassing really,  witnessing an otherwise diplomatic and level-headed ghoul go barmy at the loss of an Emeritus )    Copia kicked him when he was down because an opportunity is an opportunity indeed.    CHECKMATE.    Two birds with one stone as the saying goes.    Papa Emeritus III first —— Omega toppling down,  oops,   and there goes Annabelle .  .  . What a beautiful blood-red mess of collapsed hierarchy and their assorted lapdogs.   The Cardinal muses to himself that he must not become trigger-happy,  having already left a trail all too vicious and blood on his hands.    He’s almost certain that coppery scent hanged heavy around him like an aura of GORE and treachery —— one Papa Nihil couldn’t appear to ignore every time Copia made his appearance,  twitchy like a rat of his inflicted with nervous predispositions. 

          Unruly of him, even he would agree.   But that never bothered a man with nothing to lose.   It’s obvious by her mannerisms and aggressive tempo she had FIRE on her tongue and he was only fanning the flames —— methodically sparking something quite violent inside Annabelle,  to the point of Copia fantasising about her pressing a honed blade with his name on it against the flesh of his neck,  LAUGHING as she gave into those very weaknesses he knew still lingered somewhere in that battered heart of hers.    He would pluck it out one day and set it inside a bell jar as something to admire.    A trophy.    Would look rather delightful between The Third’s decapitated head and Omega’s mask.    He smiled,  humouring the thought.    He’ll allow her to walk away;  Let her have her moment of respite no matter how futile.   His smile is taut,  hiding away some deeper more SINISTER meaning,  but it’s a smile that didn’t read in his eyes —— No,  the look in those eyes is something also burning.

        ❛ Excellent. ❜       There was dissonance in his voice.  Calm,  but irritated.   His hands lay across his front now,  thumbs twiddling like the swaying of a pendulum.    He inhaled,  forcing greater volume.        ❛ However,  I really would prefer if you stayed now.   I insist. ❜         It’s not insistence as much as it was a COMMAND.   His word is law here afterall.         ❛ You’re a woman of good etiquette,   aren’t you? ❜       Copia had the sense he was tempting fate but,  she would be a fool to act upon those darkening desires.    In truth he had absolutely no reason to keep her —— no desperation to hold her attention.   This is all fun and games to him.    And they both know it.    A familiar squeak! made itself known by the Cardinal’s feet,  a rat,  looking up at him faithfully before darting off towards Annabelle.    The pestilent thing was like a part of him —— sharing thought and intention.     It cut her off from her path,  undaunted by its own size.    Copia took one step forwards.     The sound of footfalls and stone reverberated.         ❛ Unless .  .  . you’re not interested in the well-being of our beloved Quintessence,  mm? ❜

eiusvitaaeterna‌:

{ Cardinal Copia and Annabelle Rose Shadows: Random as all hell starter for  @copiac   }

          She had done so well in assuring their paths did not cross upon his return, now she stands in the very same hall as him. Her bones feel cold, her insides hollow as her gaze meets his own. Mix-matched hues a vicious reminder of all she had lost - of the souls she was still connected to. It’s unsettling, to be so unsure of where she truly stands with the being only a few feet from her. She doesn’t trust him; she can’t bring herself to. His rise behind the forsaken walls, his rise in the world - it left a bitter taste in her mouth. Slow is the breath that departs from her lungs, forcing her body to navigate down the path. Her features stoic as she moves closer. “Cardinal, I wasn’t expecting your return to be so sudden. Welcome back.” There’s no malice behind her words or the gaze that finds his own, still, she’s lacking in any genuine joy. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some matters to tend to.” Distance - she wants to maintain distance even if at times she finds herself thinking of the very same man she’s actively avoiding.

       ❛ Leaving so soon? ❜      His hands are behind his back,  fingers wriggling with icy anticipation,  like the hands of a killer desperate to wrap around her throat.    Copia made no attempt to mask his obvious pleasure in her torment —— Knowing his presence was nothing short of TORTUROUS to her.    He mocked Annabelle in every which way.    His voice,  melodic and cold —— His countenance,   derisive.     It amused him to see how far he could push her limitation and how tightly she held her tongue behind clenched teeth.

        ❛ I make my appearance and already you’re setting off.   Now,  I may not seem like it but I know a thing or two about courtesy and I really think we should sit down and have a drink to uh .  .  . let’s call the occasion a commemoration of my return!    Whatever ‘matters’ you have can surely wait.   Can’t they? ❜       A knowing glance ever SHARP and intrusive.   It’s rhetorical of course.   He’ll milk this for all it’s worth by revelling in her discomfort —— As skillfully as she suppressed it her true feelings did not slip beyond his scrutiny with the same finesse.        ❛ What a shame Omega Ghoul isn’t here to join us.    I sorta miss the way he glared at me like a wild animal.   A starved carnivore!    I guess loyalty to the Clergy didn’t matter to him all that much. ❜      Bet that stung.

SISTER UMBRA :

She clung to him and her heart raced as if trying to burst from her body , being this close to him truly was all consuming. His hand covering her eye, his gaze fixed on her , the moon illuminating their bodies bathing them in its light - everything had aligned and now it was time. She squeezed his other hand their fingers still entwined.

She gasped sharply and her lungs overfilled with air her grip tightened and she smiled at him before she fell to her hands and knees with relief , the pain still searing made her feel more alive than she’d ever felt before and her blood raced round her body. Looking up at him with new sight as the last few wisps of smoke floated away on the night air she felt the power with in her manifesting itself she rose to her feet in one smooth swift movement and softly she spoke, her voice a low sensual sound little more than a whisper ,

“Tua domine ego sum tenebris. Unum est anima mea ad te, mea potestas est potestas in aeternum. Et serviant tibi modo vobis. Benediximus noctis lunam vinculo. Te amo.”

Obeying a sudden impulse she leaned in and pressed her lips to his hungrily and her whole being vibrated with energy. She smiled against his lips and ran her tongue along them before leaning back to look at him. “My Cardinal , so handsome , so clever. This power is now bound to you and I will bring you wonderful things . She kissed him again demonstrating the magick that flowed between them which would proffer them greatly.

         He examined her with a certain air  of suspicion and fascination alike.    “Te amo”,   it piqued the smirk on his face,   knowing now through her eye she could see him for his TRUTH and still her feelings remain unfaltered.    But of course they would.    He chose her for a reason —— and that reason was THAT in itself.    Her kiss as resolute as before,  that same eager tremble at the slightest touch.    He lets it happen,  and he humoured her with a PASSIONATE regard.    The Cardinal ran his fingers through her hair that fell smoothly back into place;  Even through his gloves he could feel its softness and delicateness much like her skin and plenty else.    She was fire and earth simultaneously.     LUST is her motivator —— The fire.    Perhaps too it is her being rooted to his cause.     Her naivety-turned-loyalty had been the perfect ingredient.

           ❛ Wonderful things indeed.    With that eye you are able to see more than you could before.    Things the world does not want you to bear witness to but that of which the universe does.     It’ll bring you power in the form of knowledge —— You’ll see even in me what you couldn’t prior to this gift. ❜          A risk on his part,  but one he didn’t sweat over because he knew of her DEVOTION.    She did not think twice of his debauchery or his plans to move himself,  not the clergy as a whole.        ❛ You are so very obedient to me aren’t you, ❜       he says as if musing aloud,   pulling her close for another warm and cloying kiss.        ❛ You realise what I aim to do is above anything.   Never tell a soul.    Or our goal will crumble —— and you’ll lose me if they knew,   they’d never allow me to live.    Which is why if you ever hear something,  or see it .  .  . you must tell me.    Yes? ❜  

BLAIR :

Blair smirked at the Cardinals flirty aura he was giving off. getting his change from the waitress, he moved onto the other section of the coffee shop, which was a metaphysical store, selling crystals, oils, teas, incense and more. blair was way too excited, fiddling with the stones as he planned which ones he wanted to buy 

“Cardinal! come check this out while they’re making our coffee!”

Blair was so happy that his hands were shaking, causing some crystals to accidentally fall from his fingers, immediately picking them up and putting them back afterward. eventually, he ended up with some Angelite, Tree Agate, Blue Goldstone, and of course, a piece of labradorite.

“if you would like to, you can pick out a stone and I can wire wrap it into jewelry for you if you would like.” he spoke to the cardinal as the higher-up looked over the specimens 

         It’s only when Blair insists on the Cardinal’s attention  does he realise that those “shiny rocks” weren’t a questionable choice in shop aesthetics but something to actually buy.       ❛ Huh.   Well,  I am curious to see what you could come up with. ❜        His spindly fingers pick out several stones at random and each go through a great deal of scrutiny and examination.    Too dark.    Too bright.    Too matte.     Too garish.     He finally decides on something that resembles a garnet in colour,  but he’s unsure of its terminology.     Whatever. 

         It’s deep red and that’s good enough for him.         ❛ How about it? ❜        Holding it close to his complexion,  idle hand presenting as if he were in one of those abysmally American infomercials.        ❛ Red is my colour wouldn’t you say. ❜

WITCH LADY :

Coal like hues finds themselves relaxing, resting at half-mast as she stares at the pale-faced male that had dared come on her land. She’d lean against her front railing, a hand cupping her cheek as a gentle exhale leaves her nostrils, her eyes are trained on him as she simply tilts her head. The man’s choice of words makes her extremely curious, though her face is nearly void of expression.

“What makes you think I care?” Words are spoken gently without any sense of aggression, though a small devious smile pulls at her lips. Normally, she would have killed him where he stood but he captured her interest. She couldn’t place why exactly but he had and for that, he was given a chance no one else had EVER been considered for. “Five minutes.” The witch stands upright and enters the small cabin, a hand beckoning him inside. She expected it would take longer than that but she’d play it by ear. If she became interested, he’d be welcome to stay a bit longer.

The silver doe finds herself sitting in an old rocking chair, her legs crossing once she’s comfortable. Once he enters her house, her attention instantly shifts to him, her jaw tight. “Who are you?” A hand points to an ottoman covered in a black fabric to offer him a seat, “And why have you sought me out?” Brows are perked in interest as her hands rest on her lap.

          He smoothed his robes neatly as he takes his seat,  admiring the place.    It really did have that forest witch charm.    The air was musty and reminiscent of the churchyard;   He always did have an AFFINITY with places resembling death and decay.       ❛ Now before I go into all that,   I suppose an introduction first would be the polite thing for me to do,   considering your hospitality. ❜       He flattened a hand to his chest,  dipping his head as sign of respect.    He’s all too AWARE she could have stripped his flesh from bones if she had so wished.    Trust is,  as they say,  paramount.        ❛ Cardinal Copia at your service,  succour to the unholy Papal Throne and bringer of pestilence. ❜        Hand now removed from his chest he waved it in a gentle FLOURISH,  adding as much unnecessary flair as he could to his moniker.    A way of dispelling any bad air between them,  should there be any.    

           His plan was to be forthright in who he was and what his intentions entailed —— She is no fool,   and would learn of the TRUTH sooner or later.    Sometimes a show of cards at hand is the best method of legerdemain.       ❛ Five minutes is all I’ll need to either convince you or take my leave. ❜       Copia smiled wryly,  giving it his best shot.        ❛ As a direct line to the Dark One himself —— The happenings of our kind don’t often escape me.   Especially .  .  . When I hear there’s a necromancer who walks among us.   I’m surprised no one from the Clergy has snatched you up;  You’re quite the catch. ❜        His smile lingered there.          ❛ So let me cut to the chase.    I wouldn’t want to waste any more of your precious time.    I think it’s in both our interests to secure our places not only here but in all realms in which we exist —— I can arrange that for you.    As for me?    Unfortunately mortality hangs over my head and I can’t shake it.    If something should happen to me,  well,  y'know .  .  . Keep me alive,  and I keep you pretty damn near omnipotent.    Do we have a deal?   That .  .  . Might be a lot to take in,  I understand. ❜

MISS STARK :

@copiac​ (continued from X)

I_{n the back of her mind, Kelsey was sort of frightened to wonder what was on the other side of the door- mostly because her overthinking and anxiety about meeting people skyrocketed. Also the way he said it, sounded almost like what a movie villain would say. But, she reassured herself that if something horrific was behind the door, Sister wouldn’t have talked about Copia so much. Of course the teenager knew of the music of the Clergy, that was how accidentally she wound up into meeting Sister Imperator, opening up her heart to saying how she and her father always played guitar to their tunes in times of trauma. So, putting her negative thoughts aside, Kelsey opened the door like she was instructed to.}

_{Seeing the Cardinal sprawled out on his chair with a bottle of wine- no, make that two- on the side table, the eighteen year old awkwardly stepped in, not moving much further from the door. She at least tried to not look as nervous as she was, a small smile adorning her pale face (that was from the lack of sun from staying inside too much), “A pleasure to meet you Cardinal. My name’s Kelsey Stark, I’ve been getting to know Sister Imperator here. I wanted to ask if you’ve seen her around. I’ve attempted to ask the Ghouls, most of them, but uh…I think Dew was too captivated from me showing him my guitar to answer. I was going to play a little for Sister before bringing up some personal matters….She’s told me a lot about you every time I’ve visited here.”}

         He held a small bunch of red grapes to his mouth,  pinching two between his teeth then tugging them from their vine.      ❛ Mhm, ❜       It’s a DUBIOUS sound he makes,  having never seen this girl before.   Who let her in?        ❛ Usually,  when someone comes here,  it’s because they wanna deal with me,  not Sister Imperator. ❜       Cruel of him to give the poor thing the third degree,  but the notion was too APPEALING.   Part of him is grateful she’s not his problem right now —— He has enough on his plate.    Figuratively,  and quite literally right in front of him.

          ❛ I’d offer you a drink,  but. ❜      He looked her up and down,  noting her youth.    He can’t place a number however it’s best to err on the side of CAUTION.        ❛ Y’don’t look a day over .  .  . Uh .  .  . Whatever age you are.   Too young to drink.   I do have these grapes,  though.    Want some?   Oh,  pleasure to meet you too,  ‘Kelsey Stark’. ❜ 

THE ANTICHRIST :

Witnessing his metamorphosis soaked her monstrous forked tongue in blasphemous tastes of venom and honey, as if a thousand yersinia had torn themselves apart, dissolving into gravely, sugary sap which now pulsed through delicate veins of her throat. Such was the ecstasy of clenching her slender, ivory fingers around his neck, and slowly lifting him into morbid luminary of endless, primeval might, hearing every fiber in his ailing, fragile body shriek as incandescent iron sept into it’s very essence, stagnating and building an abysmal colosus. The False Messiah marveled at him, at his frosty soul engulfed in pale green hellfire, at grim visage grown handsome, twisted by maniacal rapture, and at his sable, fractured halo - wallowed in him like a sculptor basks in the sight of splendidly shaped marble.

The sneering hound was at last skinned, it’s rotted, decayed carcass bathed in shimmering dawn of molten gold - the dawn of Year Zero. Auroral drops wept away, leaving macabre white footsteps on naked bone, out of which had evolved an imperial wyrm clothed in scales of platinum, slowly raising it’s wings sewn out of billions and billions of squirming bacteria - both young and ancient at the same time. A diabolical grin crooked the Antichrist’s face of ethereal beauty - there he stood, her First Horseman, her lawless, almighty Conquest. Helpless Christ shall lament his precious flock burning alive under his merciless gauntlet. If God had not yet perished, then he will - consumed by haunting echoes of his collapsed reign, and the Holy Ghost will fade into nothingness.

With the feather-light caress of his diseased lips against her satiny hand, silvery, sinister laughter vibrated her velvety lungs - the melody of victorious satisfaction. “For a thousand eternities, and then a thousand more” she nodded, almost in amusement “Come now, my Deadly Pestilence. Let us deliver the glorious news of your rising to my Beloved Father. And then…” fondly, she caressed his bloodstained forehead, brushing away a stubborn strand of hair poking from under his shimmering crown “I am to grant a gift to you, sweet Archangelo of Armageddon. I know that for years you have withered under a prideful foot of bloodline falsely holding themselves above you. Not anymore… Tonight, you shall unleash the Black Death upon them, thus they are reborn, and reborn below you…”

        As he stood he felt power rise with him  and it was like glorious fever enraptured,  the fall of Eden yet to come but so close the Cardinal,   PESTILENCE,   could taste its tar-like nectar on his insipid,  profanatory tongue.    Regal  &  chaotic.    A zenith that’d enveloped them both;  The hastening of CHRIST’S demise.    The manic sounding within Babylon’s belfry,  the groveling of crusaders who now welter .  .  . Bliss.    She had delivered to him a revelation,  a behest like none other before.   He questioned not why him —— The STARS maligned spoke of it for aeons.    He knows this and he knew it always just as fire knew it could burn.    A world without end would learn of its mortality.    Feeble,  as is its inhabitants.    The Antichrist’s gentle hand upon his flesh was akin to a mother’s touch —— wise and warm as the embryotic sac.   Natural.    Fate.   She is his REBIRTH.    Pushed forth from the metaphorical womb into a world reclaimed.    Again he bowed his head taking on a dutiful disposition;  The ephemeral realisation.       ❛ I am ready. ❜

          His voice shook not with apprehension but FERVOUR.    How long had mankind peddled slander and conjecture spitting them as truths used to manipulate and subjugate?    How long had the arrogant ‘ God ’ and his trinity smashed open the skulls of Lucifer’s most adherent,  using their BLOOD to paint sacrilegious falsehoods known as the Biblical word,  insistent is was they whom knew right from wrong?    The creature still blanketed in verdant flame shrieked as though it knew Copia’s intention,  its enthuse for his virulent plan.    Its gaze met his,  and for a short interlude their affinity had been known,   this thing is borne from the SHADOW of his heart,  crafted from his marrow —— Reborn,  like him.   It thirsts for the blood of the lamb.    

          ❛ The Black Death, ❜       Like having been reacquainted with preternatural aura visions of thirteenth century doom befell him.    Miasma,  empty prayer,  mound upon mound of BURNING corpses littering the cobbled streets.    It brought something of a pleasurable sensation to goosepimpled skin.    Disease did not discriminate;   It struck like a knife to jugular sacrifice.    Nor did it act swiftly —— Pestilence,  the sadist,  feasted on pain and SUFFERING and in the name of Satan,  Belial,  Valefar,  Astaroth,  Pazuzu,  Nergal .  .  . his power would be widespread once more.       ❛ It comes to me like a wanton.    It’s mine, ❜      His elation overwhelms him.    He glanced to her,   cold grin a testament to his bequest.       ❛ And I won’t allow it to abscond me again.   Long has Heaven subdued us,  but our time is now.   I can feel it. ❜       The skies will split apart and bring spears of blood rain with its darkening overcast.    Copia nods,  readying himself.   The itch he can’t scratch,   the URGE he can’t fulfil,  soon it will take shape in the unleashing of devastation.

AETHER GHOUL :

The Cardinal’s soft voice did not make him jump at the slightest, he had a feeling that he would be somewhat followed, however he wasn’t expecting it to be Copia, he was expecting someone like Dew or another ghoul. His tail remained between his legs, seemingly only flowing side to side slightly with the wind.

Aether was good at hiding his emotions, never really talking about them as he never found a reason to. He wasn’t open to anyone.

“What is there to say?”

He replied lowly, exhaling smoke through his nostrils and keeping his gaze focused on the water fountain in the garden area, away from the Cardinal. A soft sigh left his lips, putting out the used cigarette bud on the metal rail and flicking it over the edge. And before you knew it another was lit and placed between his lips; he only smoked excessively when he had something on his mind. Not that he’d ever open up about his troubles.

“I thought you were a bit occupied with the other ghouls; I left you to it. I was getting a headache anyway.”

His voice was flat, emotionless even. It would take a lot for him to talk about anything, you’d have to be close to Aether. And he knew the Cardinal like the back of his hand, his ways, more than any other ghoul.

His eyes were shadowed, his usual glamour covering them to look soulless, he knew others could tell what was wrong by just looking in his eyes, and he didn’t want anyone to know, not even the Cardinal, this time.

          He could play the fool.   He could play the advocate.    Copia was,  in name and in spirit,  a man of many facets.    He watched people.    Learned their facets like familiarising himself with a second language.    Now this could be for several reasons —— he WANTS something from you.    He’s trying to usurp you of it.   Or perhaps he’s doing it all for fun —— because he can.    Aether was no exception to this habitual placing beneath the microscope.    And despite his efforts to disguise his shift in behaviour,  Copia KNOWS otherwise.    He can smell it on him like he could anybody else.

           He throws the torn pieces of leaf over the balcony and watched them drift off into the night.    They fell gently,  like snowflakes,  before a nocturnal breeze SWEPT them away.    Dusting off gloved hands he clung to the railing and swayed,  playfully NUDGING into Aether.        ❛ Of course I was occupied,  it’s what I do,  mm?    I must spread my attention evenly,  but I was as occupied with them as I was with you —— ❜      He flashed him a coy look.         ❛ Not going to tell me what’s truly bothering you .  .  . ?    Deep down beneath all that attempt to shroud your feelings? ❜      He spoke BOLDLY knowing Aether was in no place to deny.    Even the moon’s watchful eye could see beyond the facade.

AETHER GHOUL :

— Who am I really, to you?

Starter for @copiac

Aether had remained strict with himself around the other ghouls and the Cardinal, not one to laugh or show a smile. He stood up straight in the room full of ghouls who were around the Cardinal, however he remained at the back, not one to usually fawn over many people.

As he thought that everyone was distracted with the Cardinal he turned on his heel to the door and quietly exited the room. His head was starting to throb from the other’s loudness and he needed a break from…being social.

Making his way out onto the balcony of the large gothic mountain, he leaned against the rail with his forearms and took out a cigarette from the packet in his back pocket, placing it where his darkened lips would be and snapping his fingers, lighting the cigarette with the flame that lit between his fingers. Exhaling the smoke and looking up at the moon, it was the time of night where he was wondering what his purpose here, on Earth was besides serving the Cardinal.

       ❛ Mind if I join you? ❜      Came a voice from the shadows.   There’s no need to declare his presence nor identity,  Aether would know his voice anywhere.   Distinctively SOFT,  nasally,  but pleasing to the ear.   The air is muggy and thick and it clung to the skin,  its gentle breeze carrying the soundscapes of the night,  and rustling of ivy that trailed all the way up mansion walls.   Even along the balcony railing there were verdant TENDRILS clinging to the metalwork.   Copia tugged a leaf from its branch and gently folded it like origami,  just to busy his hands.       ❛ You’re quiet tonight. ❜      The Cardinal joined his side,  looking sheet-white in the light of the moon.

          ❛ Very quiet. ❜       The scent of tobacco enveloped him every so often.   With each toke that Aether took it would trail off in Copia’s direction.   He didn’t mind.   He’d been so accustomed to it that it’s something of a COMFORT now.   Something about the night and this view before him provoked many thoughts,  but above all it gave him something that’d always remain BEAUTIFUL and untainted.   The evergreens at the foot of their ‘ castle ‘,  the way the moon would always rise on their side —— He can’t help but find himself entranced.   But if there’s one thing about Cardinal Copia,  it’s that nothing sidetracked him.   Not even the evergreens nor the moon.       ❛ I am listening,  you know .  .  . ❜