crow-killer

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pourprefanee

  ❦┃♜┈ It was nearing dusk when the man stepped out from the blood clinic; a rather rare sight lacking sanguine splotches upon silver and feather. His business was concluded, and Iosefka remained stubborn– perhaps she needed but a few more pushes of persuasion, or mayhap a more favorable trade. Regardless, he would have to return another time. Feet shifting to step, the soft clang of paper-thin metal complimented the eerie silence of the street, gunshots and yelling in the distance periodically interrupting.

   Stopping momentarily in the plaza, Alexander gazed upward at the burning effigy: a blood-starved beast of sorts, crucified, as if it held some deep meaning or sign of victory. A trophy even. It was pathetic, seeing as those who loomed before and gazed in awe had become little more than beasts themselves. While indulging in personal thought, the sound of steps dissimilar to his own slowly crept into earshot. They were coordinated and constant–a hunter? Turning ever slightly, the Bloody Crow ceased to inspect the strung up monster.

    “… who goes there?”

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ABSOLUTELY not.

ILL HAVE SEX WITH WHOEVER I WANT, DADDY!

I AM NOT YOUR FATHER NOW GO TO YOUR ROOM.

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Corner, roost, cage, whatever, GO.

ILL HAVE SEX WITH WHOEVER I WANT, DADDY!

I AM NOT YOUR FATHER NOW GO TO YOUR ROOM.

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ILL HAVE SEX WITH WHOEVER I WANT, DADDY!

I AM NOT YOUR FATHER NOW GO TO YOUR ROOM.

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// brb for a bit gotta run some errands

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kaminokiri

   ❦┃♜┈ Byrgenwerth. The institution of higher learning hidden in the wood. The path to and from was treacherous, riddled with snake amalgamations and incurable Yharnamites, twisting paths and dead ends, ledges and tombstones. Only an utter fool, or a being with great purpose, would brave such perils to seek what lied at the end of the forest.

   Alexander was, debatably, the latter, but something called to him, willed him to make the venture. Was it a desire for knowledge? Greater insight? Or perhaps the discovery of improved weaponry. All three piqued the crow’s interest to a degree, in truth.

   Now, standing before the gate, an armored hand extended without haste, grasping an iron bar and lightly shaking, testing its mettle. For all this time the barrier held true, and even now it would seem to remain without budge. He would only linger moments more before withdrawing, scanning the complex for another route in.

   “Hmn-- unfortunate...”

   Circumnavigating, the Bloody Crow dashed past the corrupting fly-humans that loomed, disposing the cretins as needed. Oddly enough, the left side yielded far better results. Dropping from a ledge, Alexander noted another door adorning the building’s side. Dusting off his beloved cloak, the man composed himself with each step, armored leggings clinking and clanking softly. Approaching, he braced for resistance... but the door opened, much to his surprise. Stepping inside, the crow took in the atmosphere.

   “Ah, splendid... hello? Don’t suppose anyone is home?”

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violaceousreverie

   ❦┃♜┈ “I assure you my dear, you have nothing to fear from me. A moment of time is ALL I ask... do you think of me as another one of those crass hunters? Come now, I am a man of refinement--” The crow spoke with faked flowing elegance, wishing to lull the other into comfort.

   Though the desire to cull was low, he would not hesitate if the woman offered violence. After all, what he sought was knowledge, not blood... for now.

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   ❦┃♜┈ Starter Post

         (inbox 100% open to plotting as well!)

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Forest - Yaroslav Gerzhedovich (2012)

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Raven - Denis Raven Fischer (2014)

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heiimdallr:

        bare few momentspassed before such demands came answered , worn oak seeming to ease itself opensans the need of another body behind it . as masking what deeper sins heldabove , the tavern offered a daresay warm embrace from whatever hostilitiesambushed the filthy crevices of the streets .  

       mercifully , dutieseased off for lone and desolate nights as this , moon waxing its maternal gazeupon the city ( and ever still penetrating what window’s bloodied glassremained ) , and time was swallowed by the focused refinement of orallyconsumable essence of sanguine kind and its alcoholic counterpart . pale orbsflickered towards the door brief seconds before returning to the glass andcloth in which digits so idly occupied themselves in cleansing .

       ’ evening , ser . wha’ can iget'cha ? ’

   ❦┃♜┈ Ah, there he was: the working boy who was so well known for his figure and... ‘talents’. Stepping inside the facility, Alexander made due to shut the door behind him, sealing off the tell-tale stench of the streets from the tavern.

   ❦┃♜┈ “What can you get me? Nothing but your time.” He spoke, approaching the other with a surprising air of openness. The Crow was not a particularly social man, but that did not mean it was a foreign experience to him. For once, talk would replace action.

   ❦┃♜┈ “You are that Hayes fellow I’ve heard mention of, are you not?-- I have a proposition of sorts I wish to discuss with you.”

❦┃♜┈ strictly business

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churchblood:

“GRAVES are significant to the living,” the Hunter stated in fugue to the Crow, “I wouldn’t expect one from the isolated Cainhurst to understand -”

Gascoigne gave not the respect of turning to face his visitor (he could sense each action, and refused to respond to the condescending remark with a comfort that implied he still kept his vision), speaking solely to the stone.

“- If the dead were to litter the streets, faith would be replaced by fear.  I assume you’re foreign to this courtesy, leaving corpses like a trail in your mindless malice.”

   ❦┃♜┈ The Crow gave a melodramatic gasp as an armored hand daintily came to spread its digits and rest upon his chest, shoulders slightly shifting back. Vocally silent as he descended the final cobblestone steps, Alexander paused, allowing the ‘Father’ to finish.

   ❦┃♜┈ “Oh I can imagine so... Cainhurst has the bodies, undoubtably, but not the graves. Perhaps I could hired you, should you be free a day.” He dryly japed. “The dead already litter every nook and cranny of this blighted town, it’s the living ones I would be more concerned about.”

   ❦┃♜┈ Lightly shrugging at the mention of his deeds, the Bloody Crow walked parallel to the other, chin and torso tipping down to inspect Gascoigne’s work. “--If you need worry so vehemently of your faith, then what good is it? A fragile belief is worthless; a fragile comfort dangerous. I’ve seen the workings of your Healing Church over the years: you put a scourge rising down, HURRAH, reveling all around... but then it returns, even stronger than the last occurrence, and the cycle repeats.” He mused, glancing over. “One day, one hunt, to be precise, the strings holding this society together will  s n a p, and the balance shall shift too far to be pulled back to your side. Will it be this hunt, I wonder? The next? I do not know, but it certainly is exciting.”

❦┃♜┈ groundskeeping

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Crow’s Flight - hello-magpie (2006)

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Oops. Nox had forgotten to shift her regular clothes into the Crowfeather garment. If only her abilities didn’t require to wake up the dead crows that disguised themselves as her clothing. Oh well. It wasn’t like anyone would try to do anything to her if they figured out that she wasn’t human ( or even a god ) since many strange and supernatural entities walked among this land.

Not like they could do anything to her anyways.

She laughed. 

                     “ Right you are, fellow Crow. My home is six feet under!                        Or up in the sky! Or down below! Or–– wherever corpses                        and souls go! They seem to go everywhere! ”

She cackled and then tapped on the ground several times as though pointing at her homeland.

                      “ Hmm. I just enjoy bein’ here. It’s like a walk in the park for                         a demented Crow like myself~ ” 

   ❦┃♜┈ “... yes, well, for better or worse a demented Crow like yourself should fit right in.” Alexander commented, attempting to look past the other’s eccentric behavior to give a more serious response. Sane or no, something besides her state of mind seemed off to him. Was she a threat? Possibly. Would she attack him? If provoked, mayhap. The Crow took a step back for good measure.

   ❦┃♜┈ “Are you a hunter of the crowfeather as well, or an unsound medicinal practitioner of sorts? I cannot say you strike me as a familiar figure.”

   ❦┃♜┈ As much as her appearance may suggest it, the woman, or whatever she was, did not strike him as the hunter type. Though a far cry from normal, her mannerisms were unlike the typical Yharnam madness the Crow had come to know.

❦┃♜┈ peculiarity

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calisvol:

   it was unseemly for a GENTLEMAN , but utterly appropriate for a hunter . as one whom was familiar with the true crow , even HE knew the sight of one of the sky hunter’s coven and this one was not IT . fleeting glimpses of one who was rank with vileblood , an old blooded wretch whom was SUPPOSED to have been decimated with the kith of the others in league with cainhurst . alucard attempted subtly , but it would ULTIMATELY fail as he pursued in hot chase that refused silence . the causeways had been CLEARED , corridors sacked and the immediate vicinity left to the quiescence . the nosferatu was ADDLED with purpose in this hunt for knowing . 

   the vilebloods had CRAFTED a dark interest in him , one that would be difficult to shake once blood had been SHED and the hound in pursuit . it was an obvious one , their blood shied from the majority few could THINK to match or compare . it smelt faintly pthumerian , perhaps divided by being sired and ALTERED ; it reminded him strangely of siring a fledgling he himself distantly knew . the high walls of the clinic would give way to CENTRAL yharnam , the yawning maw of the precipice into the city below gaping LONG and fogged . but , he would hide no longer . 

    ‘ hah , there you are . aren’t you a bit far from your castle ? why , it makes me almost nostalgic . castles and depraved monarchs bastardizing whomever they please with their blood . ‘

   ❦┃♜┈ “There you are... you speak as if we know one another.” The Crow remarked, stepping away from the burning effigy to face his addressor. Sooner than immediately, however, he felt something off about the man in red. Most who walked these streets had blood which sloshed idly by, reeking of that distinct Yharnam pungency. Some blood trickled, some blood fluidly rushed, and some simply flowed, be it in body or out. But whoever this man was, whatever they were, perhaps, had no such calm or inert nature. The inhuman crashing of crimson waves, the rapid TORRENT of innumerable sanguine gallons; Alexander near had to cover his ears. Mudding his focus, the Bloody Crow shook the din from his mind.

   ❦┃♜┈ “Ergh... what?-- Depraved monarchs bastardizing...?” The killer paused. “-Hmn, you think of me as a Vileblood, do you? Well, you certainly wouldn’t be the first to believe the rumors... my blood and body may be vile, yes, but I have not one DROP of the queen’s boon in my being... would you think a man as I worthy of such a blessing? (Touching)”

   ❦┃♜┈ Briefly chuckling, Alexander breathed, silently assessing the threat of the other while speaking. “In truth, I have yet to see the monarch I serve. Did you too once serve, stranger?”

❦┃♜┈ of blood

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harrowbe:

    ❛ seeing clearly does not always brand one as a keen observer as the stench of blood and rustling of feathers says enough, as does the shape of your silhouette under the moonlight. ❜ he angles his head slightly again, just enough so that he can peak through the fibres of his mask to examine his company once more. one can never be too sure, of course. ❛ but you may think what you like; beggar or no beggar, those who are brave enough to wander through these treacherous streets at the night of the hunt can only gain so much until they stir up some trouble. ❜

   ❦┃♜┈ “Hmn, quite an astute form of speech you have, for a beggar.” The Crow raised an armored digit to curl slightly under the brim of his silver helm, thoughtfully inspecting the other. A stranger in appearance and identity, though the blood of Yharnam undoubtably flowed through him. Somewhat interesting, actually.

    ❦┃♜┈ “Your looks and mannerisms are in dichotomy, I know not what to make of you, in truth.”