Avatar of Estylwen

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Recent Statuses

1 yr ago
Current With a heavy heart, I set sail.
6 likes
1 yr ago
First time making samosas from scratch; also making fried pakoras, fruit salad, and daal. I can't wait to try it all~
7 likes
1 yr ago
Okowa, the sister of sushi! I got my chicken, my fish, my mushrooms - I'm gonna drown it all in soy sauce-
1 like
1 yr ago
Maybe I'll play Cyberpunk 2077 some more. My brother maxed out my character a year and a half ago. Haven't seen him since. Miss him.
3 likes
1 yr ago
Mica, my pet snail, passed away today. :(
10 likes

Bio


°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°







”Mr. Dawson, why don't you have a seat?” He said, gesturing to the brown leather chair he had his hand resting on.

The men behind Adel stepped forward. They each placed a firm hand around his upper arms, half-guiding, half-dragging Adel to the seat. If Adel struggled in any way, their plan would have been quickly subduing him with a blow to the cheek - but besides tensing up, the man didn’t fight.

They shoved Adel into the seat, twisting it so it faced the mirror. Vincent still had that smirk on his face as he picked up a bowl of shaving cream and an applicator brush on the counter.

Slowly, methodically, Vincent applied shaving cream to Adel's face while speaking.

”Now, my men tell me that you and your spies have decided to make it your home in White Pine. Not that I care too much about that.”

He set down the bowl, picking out a barber's blade instead. He opened it, the fresh gleam of a clean, sharp blade within.

“What I really care about, though, is who set you up to do this.”

The blade pressed against Adel's neck as Vincent leaned over, staring at the man through the mirror.

”So, what'll it be, Canary? You gonna sing?”


~*~
Nocturnal Memoirs (2024)




"A million times I have done this charade. The moment people figure it out, I get the boot." she thought.

"But don't you want to see the fear in their eyes when they see who you really are...? Don't you want dominion of this place, just like how you were unchallenged in Vaal Kastrix?" said the Voice.

Ciara scoffed, immediately thinking of Gulliver and Valen. "I'd love to wipe the smirk off their faces."

"It starts by building a rumor. A rumor of power. This could be the place to start."

She took a deep breath, narrowing her eyes resolutely at the Undermage. "Head Advisor, with all due respect, you have no right to ask me about my intentions. If you want answers..."

She stood from her seat, rising to her full height.

"You'll have to duel me for them."


~*~
Iris Ascendis Roleplay (2023) | TikTok Tribute




We have a RPer Appreciation thread?
This is beautiful, I'll bookmark it. (2016)
Another kind comment. (2024)
This is what makes it worth it. (2024)
I'm grateful for the ride. (2024)








Most Recent Posts

@Wayward Yep, it looks good. Please put it in the CS tab and post in the IC when you're ready. You van either be late getting out of your pod or early, and already getting chased by monsters in the halls. Up to you.
@Blizz After a little research I think I kind of get the reference? Pretty cool character, anyway
@Qia Sounds great!
@Blizz No way, you mean from FF13?! Oh heck yeah!! >:)
@AtomicEmperor Thank you! And I'll check it out!




Also, here is Layla's new abstraction!








A Place Better Forgotten -> Sabrina's House -> Outside
Mentions: Mr. Devola @AtomicEmperor Direct Dialogue: None.

(TW: Cutting)








She could see it.

Everything in perfect detail.

A grande ensemble.

Herself, asleep on the chair. Above, as if on a throne.

Void, being hacked away at by a meaty knife. The sacrifice.

Screams. Stabs. More screams.

Again and again.

His cries and curses.

His shrieking plea for help, to be saved.

His eyes, turning to her as he suffered and bled under the blade. Not her in the chair. No, the ghost who watched. Who detailed and recorded everything with perfect perfection.

She reached out a hand, but felt a paralysis in her bones. She tried to step forward,but felt sluggish and slow.

As Void’s bloodcurdling screams of agony reached their peak, begging for her to save him, for her to not to let him die.

And then, a final stab. The sound of slicing through flesh as Void’s eyes glazed over.

And the Butcher, a dark, monstrous silhouette, turning its eyes towards her.




”AAHHHH!”


Layla shot up straight from where she had slumped on the couch, haggard breaths stealing air. Quickly, a hand pressed over her mouth. Everyone was fast asleep in Sabrina's house. If they saw her like this-

Throb.

Near instantly, the panic and despair Layla felt doubled in size, crushing down on her like a cement block. It was the end of the world. Her insides trembled against the all-encompassing depression shs felt, the pain of loneliness, of loss. She wanted to throw up. It took her a second to realize she was feeling the rebound of Mr. Devola's medicine.

She had never felt worse in her life.

Immediately, every sense clamored to go wake Mr. Devola up, and beg him for more medicine. Instead, she trembled on the couch, holding a hand over muffled whimpers. She missed Void. Void had been sealed in such a painful way, and it was her fault.

Unable to breathe, to think, Layla stumbled to her feet, and scrambled in the darkness for the front door. She dragged herself out of Sabrina's house, leaving her shoes, and leaving the front door wide open.

She ran in her socks. She ran until she didn't recognize the streets. Until her breath came in shallow, frantic gasps. Until her legs begged for relief, but even then, the bleakness and despair welling within her still threatened to burst.

It was too much.

Layla collapsed on a sidewalk, tears streaming down her haggard face. She wept loudly, openly. Beside her was a shattered bottle, and she took one of the shards. Placed it on her wrist. Screwed her eyes shut.

Anything to release the pain.

And she pressed, drawing blood.

Before a gloved hand grabbed her roughly.

“What do you think you're doing to my body? My blood?”

Layla's eyes flickered open, seeing Mr. Riil kneeling over her, disapproval emanating from behind his mask. She shivered in his grasp, dropping the bloodied glass. Mr. Riil raked his black gaze over her, before tutting.

“That asshole. I should have never let him get close to you. Now look at you, a sniveling, weeping mess. And it's not even my fault!” He said with a bite in his tone.

Layla watched as Mr. Riil began lapping a long, black tongue over her wound from the side of his mask, and tears welled up further in her eyes.

“I'm alone… I have no one…”

“Yes, you're alone. That's how I've designed you, dearie.” Mr. Riil spoke matter-of-factly.

“If they're my friends, why do I feel l-like this…?”

Mr Riil set his mask back on straight, and stared her dead in the eyes. “They're not your friends. No one is your friend.”

He huffed, clearly irritated. His gloved hand extended forward. “Give me your hand, girl.”

“M-my.. hand?”

“Yes. I'm never letting that sicko get close to you again. I have no idea what he did to you, but your mind has been messed with. It's wrong. So.” His head tilted forward, daring her to refuse. “Give. Me. Your. Hand.”

She whimpered, and weakly held his hand in her own. He kept hold of her while his other hand suddenly plunged into her chest, pulling out a silver chain. From his own chest, a similar black chain appeared, and the two encircled each other in flashes of light. Slowly, links disintegrated and blended, until they were a single, unified gradient of white to black, tying them together in a unifying adjoinment. Immediately, thoughts flooded Layla's mind. Thoughts that weren't her own. She felt Mr. Riil's presence combing through her memories, and felt entirely exposed in a way that was similar to how she had been bound to Void.

Mr. Riil growled under his breath, clearly disgusted with the memories he'd seen of her and Mr. Devola. He cupped a hand around Layla’s cheek, forcing her look up at him.

“You are mine to control, and no one else’s. Got that?”

Layla nodded weakly.

“Good. Now hail a taxi. I’m taking you home.”

Layla trembled a bit as Mr. Riil lifted her to her feet, unable to think or disagree as she called the taxi line, mumbled out her location, and waited. Not long after, a yellow cab rolled up. Layla dragged herself inside, and headed home.

Uncertain, despaired, yet armed with a new adjoinment. One that would empower her as it weakened her. As was the fate of the cursed.

As always was the fate of the cursed.






The House of Cards Mafia



Phantasia Vorpal



Isabella Blackthorn


Hearts Club Casino Warehouse, Industrial District
Mentions: Britney (@Punished GN), Edict (@AtomicEmperor), the 317 (@NoriWasHere) Direct Dialogue: None.







It was deep in the night of Halloween, with festivities starting to wind down. However, across the industrial planes of St. Portwell, a lone warehouse stood against the dark backdrop. Its front was clean enough, with signage indicating it was the property of the Hearts Club Casino. However, the black SUVs parked in the back gave an entirely different, more ominous picture.

A new car rolled up. Isabella Blackthorn, dark tresses curling in the wind, stepped out of the back, and headed past the men stationed out the front, and inside. It was dimly lit, with dusty floors, crates of goods, and tarps covering spare slot machines.

Isabella dragged her sharp eyes over the scene, her sight drawn to the soft groaning coming from one of the dark corners. Bruno Arno was slumped against the wall, hands zip-tied behind his back. There were men standing around on guard, giving the kidnapped man the occasional slug across the face. Isabella walked past them with unfeeling eyes as she strode to the warehouse’s internal office. There were two burly men stationed outside, looking crisp in their suits. They barely gave Isabella a glance as she walked into the office. A grimace crossed her face nearly instantly as she saw what was inside.

Flickering lights overhead illuminated the cushioned operating table that had been placed in the center of the small room. Monitoring equipment beeped softly from beside the table, green screens pulsing with heart rate readings. One man in a lab coat was watching the readings carefully, before he pressed a button on a machine.

A muffled shriek emanated from the table as none other than Phantasia Vorpal lay trembling upon the cushion, a bit of leather in her mouth. Her body shook as the electrodes within the headset around her forehead shocked her with increasingly higher doses of electricity. Another shock, before the doctor in the lab coat pressed another button, and turned off the machine. Phantasia half sat up, spitting out the leather bit with a huff.

“How is Mother, doc?” Isabella asked.

“I wish I could say ‘better’, but progress is incredibly slow.” the neurologist said, going over his notes and sprawling out some new ones.

“I can't promise a full recovery at this point, but I was able to stimulate the corresponding locations in her brain where changes took place. She says ‘I just need a chat with her,’ instead of ‘Britney isn't an option.’ So we've gone from outright refusal to harm to possible harm.” The doctor said.

Isabella allowed herself a small sigh of relief. Her gaze turned to Phantasia as the doctor began removing the headset. “Mother Cards? The men are worried for you. What happened at the Elder Lamb?”

Phantasia's normally placid face turned into a dark expression with bared teeth. She knew what happened. But for whatever reason, everything she tried to talk about it, her words jumbled. More mind trickery.

Annoying. But still fascinating.

She wanted to say she let Edict into her head to see what would happen. Wanted to see what type of threat he was. What he would do when his beloved was threatened. She wanted to say how she felt the desire to see him again, against every logic in her mind.

But instead, what came out was, “We were talking before I was overcome with visions of paradise, and had to excuse myself.”

Isabella only looked at her boss with a sympathetic stare, before she turned to the doctor. “We're counting on you, doc.”

The doctor nodded, watching as Phantasia grabbed her hat and the two of them exited the office. Phantasia and Isabella took the metal grated staircase to the second floor, where her private office was. Phantasia opened the door, sat down in the leather seat behind the mahogany desk, lit a cigarette and placed it in her holder. Smoke curled around her hat as she puffed away.

“How's progress with the 317?” Phantasia asked after a few minutes.

“We're really not gonna talk about how badly your plan went? What about Britney?”

Phantasia took another long drag of her cigarette before speaking. “The plan went perfectly. I’ll arrange a meeting with Britney. You don't worry about that.”

She blew out another puff of smoke. “Now. The 317?”

Isabella stared grimly before she relented, sitting in the seat across from her boss. “We got the sacrifice in the warehouse ready for transport. I'll arrange another meeting with my contact, and get this wrapped up.”

“Good. We need as many advantages as possible if we’re gonna pull this off.”

“Yes ma'am.”

Isabella stared for a moment. “If there's nothing else, Mother…”

Phantasia gave Isabella a dismissive wave. But as Isabella made to leave, Phantasia’s head tilted up, pink eyes suffusing the dim lights.

“Don't worry so much, my dear Thorn. I didn't become the head of this family because I withered at the slightest resistance.”

Isabella swallowed, nodded, and excused herself, softly shutting the door behind her. The butterflies in her stomach from Phantasia’s gaze caught her like a ghost, sitting with her for the rest of the night.

<Snipped quote by Estylwen>

Slowly.

Less than good news from yesterday... I've got a case of tendinitis in my ankle (pretty much what I figured was going on).


Very sorry to hear that. Take the time you need, and you can hop in when you're ready. Taking care of your health comes first and foremost. I hope you have a speedy recovery.
New post is up!



VV


Cryopod Storage Room

@Lexisheeps, @Qia, @naomimyselfandi, @Silver Carrot







”Does it really matter where?”
M


VV looked to the slumped bodies along the wall, then back to the dark haired man. “I suppose not. I imagine we've woken up in a war zone of some sort. But wherever we go, it should be chosen as a group.”

As M introduced himself, she gave a quiet nod. “Wish it were under, well, any other circumstances, but… Yeah, you can call me VV. Vee-vee.”

“I wonder if there are any other survivors.”
M


VV grimaced slightly, then gave a shrug. “Others like us? I bet the only reason we survived is these reinforced pods. I don't know if there are others… I doubt they could survive this gruesome massacre. Then again, I'd prefer to be wrong.”

"I think M's right. There could be others out there. But we need to be cautious. We have no idea what else might be lurking in this place.”
Auburn-haired test subject


VV dragged a palm over her mouth, nodding as the girl with her hair up in a half-ponytail spoke.

“You're right. We have no idea what we're walking into. But if there are others, we should try to find them, right?”

VV tilted her head, red eyes glimmering. “You didn't mention your name. I'm VV.”

That's when the group was interrupted by haggard and unholy screaming, and VV involuntarily flinched.

“What the-”

Before the seemingly Japanese woman calmed down and got out of her pod, to VV's quiet relief.

”S- so I guess we'll be working together. You can call me, ah… Ada, i- if you want to.”
Ada


VV reached over and placed a comforting hand on the scarred woman's shoulder. “You're okay, Ada. I'm looking forward to working with you. We're gonna get out of here, I promise you.”

”Only two rooms are pointed out. The safe room and the main gate. I think whoever drew on this map wants us to get to the main gate, but...why would we need to use a safe room?"
Pia


VV contemplated as she stared at the brunette. It was a valid point. “Maybe the safe room leads… somewhere else? Or maybe whatever lies in the halls is far too treacherous near the Main Gate? Or…” her tone dropped a note. “Maybe we were never meant to leave this place.”

She scanned each of their faces, seeing the flicker of emotions trapped in each of them. She had no idea what they were all doing here. But she knew it wasn't good. Their best course of action would be to find an exit and escape as quickly as possible.

What was waiting for them, though, was anyone’s guess.

She searched a few of the bodies until she found what she was looking for - a security card. With this, they would hopefully have an easier time navigating this labyrinth of a facility.

She bit her lip, and glanced to the group. “Well, we can think about where we wanna go on the way - they both require we go down the same hall.”

She strode over to the elevator and pressed the button. After a brief pause, the doors slid open, illuminating the storage room in a sterilized white glow. VV stepped inside, holding the elevator doors with one hand and beckoning with the other.

“Let’s get outta here.”






Archives Room








The elevator doors cracked open again on a higher floor, revealing the soft, ethereal glow of a dimly lit server room. The rows of servers were stacked from floor to ceiling, the thrum of electricity the only sound in an otherwise quiet facility. There was the faint scent of blood here, and gunpowder, as a few fallen bodies of personnel and soldiers marred the otherwise perfect gray tiles.

VV crept into the enclosed space, staring down the line of servers, holding her breath.

“I think… we're alone here.”

She turned back to the group, eyes scanning them, before her jaw dropped and a strangled yelp escaped her throat.

On the wall above the elevator, looming over all their heads, it stared. Made up of shadows cast from the ethereal light, a portion of its body was flat against the wall, appearing as none other than regular shadow. The other half, however, the half that loomed over them, was massive. It had an oddly human shape, completely pitch back, skeletal, gangly limbs, clawed hands poised as if to snatch them out of the air. It had black, greasy hair hanging from its head. Where its face should have been, were only glowing red pinpricks for eyes.

The entire room had a chill to it, a palpable sense of dread, of fear, as the entity stared at them, menacingly.



Elys Adair

Oratorio, //A3 - Adventurer’s District
@ERode, @SilverPaw



Once emerging from the Underpass, her breath caught in her throat. Despite the hustle and bustle of the streets on this side of the pass, she was completely at a standstill. Anticipation crept into her bones, her every sense straining, trying to understand what she felt, what she knew.

There was someone else here, glowing with ichor, stained with… the scent of blood?

The first revelation was that there were others like herself. How many were there? What did it mean that there were more than just her here?

It also caused her to jump to the next thought.

That spark of divinity she could detect.

It was rightfully hers, wasn't it?

There was a desire to collect, to gain more, to feel a sense of wholeness within one’s self. She couldn't explain it, but the sensations overcoming her were unshakable and unmistakable.

Only one could make it to the top, wasn't it?

With her every sense on edge, another thought crossed her mind: As much as she could detect them, they could likely detect her.

Movement was of the essence here. A moment’s hesitation and she would lose her advantage.

All thoughts of the new district, of delving into the Abyss, of making coin, were momentarily sidelined as Elys moved past the shifting masses, intent on hunting down the other ichor-blessed.

Soon enough, in her mentalscape she ‘saw’ two masses, one alight with ichor, the other plain. Other masses were departing, while yet others seemed to laze behind, waiting.

The ichor-blessed seemed to have friends, or some kind of association with others in this corrupted city.

Well. No matter.

Elys’ staff smacked the ground abruptly as she approached from behind, black robes flapping in the wind.

“I have business with the one who is of divinity here,” her head nodded cooly in the direction of the alighted mass, “The rest of you, leave us.”

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