#Yu（vague）

[butaimatome]

「桜蘭高校ホスト部」のフィナーレがついに！12月に上演決定！

以下は、葉鳥ビスコ原作のミュージカル「桜蘭高校ホスト部 Fine（フィーネ）」に関する情報です。 ＜概要＞ ・12月に東京で上演されることが決定。 ・キャッチコピーは「ホスミュシリーズ ついにフィナーレ!!」。 ・2022年に第1弾公演、同年12月に第2弾公演が行われた後の第3弾に当たる。 ・主要キャストは変わらず、須王環役を小松準弥さん、鳳鏡夜役を里中将道さん、常陸院光役を二葉勇さん、常陸院馨役を二葉要さん、埴之塚光邦役を設楽銀河さん、銛之塚崇役を田鶴翔吾さん、藤岡ハルヒ役を山内優花さん、猫澤梅人役を大海将一郎さん、宝積寺れんげ役を斉藤瑞季さんが演じる。 ・第2弾公演のBlu-ray / DVDには、「桜蘭高校ホスト部…

[zimtdraws]

no thoughts, ace attorney persona sprites 🧑‍⚖️

[riceballoon]

time skip

a persona 4 velvet attendant!protag comic from 2 years ago! id enjoy seeing yosuke being the next wildcard and growing into the leader role he so admired

forgive the awkward dialogue i am not a good writer

[comickergirl]

Me @ myself: Do not get attached to an unlicensed shoujo manga, in that way lies madness.

Myself: Counterpoint...Wolf and Revolver

[cillyscribbles]

i think i need to accept that what i actually want more than to write an essay called "adaptation theory applied to cats 1998 and 2019" is to write an essay called "CATS IS GOOD, ACTUALLY, AND IF YOU GUYS HAD JOY AND WHIMSY IN YOUR HEARTS YOU WOULD SEE THIS"

[sarayashikidays]

Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime: So thou through windows of thine age shall see

[ygoartreviews]

Evil HERO Neos Lord

When I talked about the recent Yubel card, I mentioned it being a love letter to GX. This card is similar to that; it's just the evil version. (Also more potentially spoilery, if I'm being honest). For those unaware, this card features Neos sporting The Supreme King's outfit to awesome effect. So many little details from his outfit were transferred over here that it's wild; the purple gem on his chest and the two red triangles pointing towards it look like the clasp for his cloak, the gold detail on his torso matches up with the way his coat is buttoned (which the black markings on his thighs/crotch are meant to mimic) and even the non-mask part of his helmet making an appearance as more of a neck guard. The SK's mask meshes so well with how Neos' face normally looks, right down to the diamond shaped gem on both their foreheads. Again, like Yubel and Flame Wingman, I'm genuinely surprised this combo didn't come up earlier. The similarities in design are just so remarkable that they mesh together perfectly. Evil Neos does get to take it up a notch beyond the SK by transforming his cape into a flared wing look with the inclusion of wing-like structures sprouting from behind his shoulders. I'll be honest... I think this is my favorite version of Neos now. No it's not just the red/black/white/gold color scheme but... That does help a lot. Also, normally the extremely detailed, American comic book style muscles bother me on Neos cards but here? They don't really register to me at all, because I think the black coloration helps hide them.

Rating: 10/10

[dtriad]

tfw when you fall down the rabbit hole of a new canon that:

is 2.7 million Chinese characters long—so half a QZGS/The King's Avatar, not as long as QZGS but still pretty damn long

doesn't have what one would exactly consider a low barrier to entry... hello ancient China circa 190-200+ CE with a huge cast, 3K era good times good times, gotta pull up a map of the historical provinces in order to track the armies moving around (logistics!! see ACOUP)

doesn't have an English translation orz

/o\

早安！三国打工人 Good Morning! Workers of the Three Kingdoms is so good though ;__; (alt source pt. 1+2)

[yu-like-spice-dont-you-squidward]

What's Wine like as a Sugar Daddy? >:3

He’s a sinful gentleman.

When you’re together, he’ll always drive, letting you be the passenger princess/prince. His clawed hands will almost always find your thigh as he drives safely and expertly with one hand. His sockets will never leave the road, but if you’ve been particularly naughty, his fingers may travel up further just enough to tease you where you’re most sensitive, knowing you’ll reach your destination long before you get any relief.

He’ll always open doors for you, including the car door. One of his favorite moves is to open the car door, offer you a hand to help you out, and once you are, he’ll bring your hand to his teeth to press a kiss there. Perhaps a little nibble as well.

He pays for everything, of course. Extravagant restaurants, expensive wines, and fashion shows. A new computer? You’ll find one on your desk in the morning with a lovely note from him. Tickets to a concert that’s sold out? Somehow there’s two VIP tickets on your nightstand accompanied by your favorite flowers. Name it, and he’ll buy it. You’re his mate, and you’ll want for nothing.

The skele-house is… rowdy, to say the least, but you’re always welcome. Needless to say, though, he often takes you to the most luxurious of hotels for your nights of passion.

He’s a rather rough and sadistic lover, so talking boundaries is much needed. But if you’re down for it, you’ll be left sore in the best ways, come morning time. Any major aches and pains will be healed by him, because with your permission he will use you as he wishes until he’s satisfied (or, ofc, the safe word is called). He’ll always murmur praises in your ear as he cleans you up.

If you’re into something a little softer, he can have just as much fun being a slow and sensuous lover. He still likes to tease you within an inch of your life though, so tread lightly.

Either way he’s a talkative lover. Be it degradation or praise that you’re into, if he’s not busy with his mouth on you he’s making you flush with the dirtiest of dirty talk.

And as with any relationship with Wine, his job is very time demanding. You’ll have to be okay with the fact that he’s not around a lot. He works odd hours, and long hours. He definitely makes up for lost time once you’re together again, but just be sure he’s resting properly, too. He tends to avoid that.

[skrunksthatwunk]

kuwabara sketch dump bc i had a dream where he was just sittin there last night and i love him and i miss him :((

[kazimakuwabara]

Karma's A Bitch

Summary: Hiei is in for a fight for his life against an old partner. (A scene from a larger story I have in mind. about 1k-ish Tw: for misogynistic behavior)

***

“You know seeing you brought low… I really shouldn’t relish it… but what the hell! You only live once!” Cassion cackled with bubbly laughter as he sent a boot into Hiei’s face, kicking the downed demon across the floor. Hiei rolled on his back, the world spinning as he was launched skidding across the floor like a stone across the surface of a pond. His body bounced across the ground, before jerking back up and spinning end over end as he went flailing across the room, his momentum carrying him several yards away from Cassion.

Cassion giggled as he watched Hiei skid to a stop, his body splayed and prone on the floor. Hiei did not move. There was no sign that he was even willing to try getting up. Just the sounds of his ragged breathing filled the air.

“You know, it serves you right suffering like this. You brought me so low when you left me Hiei, and ended our partnership… and for what, huh? A pretty green-eyed fox?” Cassion spat, gesturing to the glass cage behind him. 

Inside it, pacing like the animal that was burning to be released from inside his skin, was Kurama, his green eyes flickering into a pale yellow as he watched the fight. His livid expression curled into a snarl as Cassion gestured to him, but he said no words as he watched the dreadful fight before him.

Yusuke, still and with Kurama’s jacket pillowed beneath his head, lay slumped on his back, his eyes closed, and face pale. Kuwabara, with his back turned to the wall of the glass cage, lay slumped on his side next to Yusuke, his face against Yusuke's shoulder.

Cassion gestured to Yusuke and Kuwabara, “The pretty fox I can get, at least he’s a demon… was a demon… You know, I don’t quite know if I understand what he is just yet... but sticking with him, at least that makes sense. But leaving me for those two? A halfling bastard, and a human? You said you weren’t a pet person, and look at you! You adopted a pair of monkeys!” Cassion grunted with effort as he hurled a blast of energy, exploding the ground near Hiei.

Hiei hadn’t even tried to get to his feet or avoid it. The blast had fallen short of hitting Hiei, but it had erupted the ground near him, shifting the fire demon onto his side, so he had to face Cassion.

As the dust settled, Hiei turned his burning red eyes on Cassion, his face curled in the weakest of snarls.

“It’s karma I tell you… Karma for going soft!” Cassion snarled, smiling at Hiei's cold expression. He waited for some sort of action from Hiei, some showing of fear, but Hiei's cold gaze did not shift. It was as impassive and unimpressed as it had always been when it landed on Cassion.

Cassion's mouth twitched unhappily, and he threw another ball of energy, but this time, the blast connected, and Hiei snarled angrily as his clothes smoldered. Growling, he beat the flames out of his shirt and turned another cold, snarling glare on Cassion. Cassion's deranged smile slipped, as once again Hiei silently judged him.

"Show me some fear!" Cassion demanded flinging his arm out like a whip, and sent out a scattering of small energy blasts, that flew over Hiei's head.

"I hated that about you! That cold stare! Show me some fucking fear, Hiei!!"

Hiei said nothing, his eyes fixed on Cassion as he tantrums, silently judging.

Cassion straightened his aggressive stance and clucked his tongue. He shook his head as he looked at Hiei, and slowly started to approach him, “God… are you really this pathetic? Is this what happens when you choose a pretty face, and a couple of nothings over a good partnership?! Will you not show me fear unless I threaten to kill them?"

At this question, Cassion turned a hand behind him, his glowing palm pointed at the glass cage behind him. Hiei finally gave a response, sluggishly shifting into a sitting-up position, his eyes flickering with worry. Cassion hated to see it.

"You’re pathetic!” Cassion roared a last insult, the room shaking with the outpouring of his disgust, anger, and hate. He dropped his hand and roared wordlessly as he watched the dregs of concern leave Hiei's eyes. "How dare you fall so low? Caring about others!? Hiei, you know better! It's a dog eating dog kind of world out there, don't you dare show anyone some kindness!"

Hiei met Cassion’s ferocious rage, with the same calculating expression. And then, he shifted his head to the side, letting it fall against his shoulder, and he smiled.

Cassion felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

Ignoring the ominous twist of uncertainty that suddenly filled his gut, Cassion filled his hand with his crackling energy until it was the size of a baseball. This next hit… he would make Hiei suffer with this next hit. Smiling as he felt a triumphant glee come over him, Cassion threw out another jabbing insult, “And don’t even get me started on that matchstick of a woman you’re working for! If you’re going to go for puss, Hiei, get a hot-”

Cassion’s jaw breaks as a foot kicks him from above and not below. He barely has time to dodge the sword that follows after the kick, and he turns his eyes expecting to see Hiei. It’s lucky for him he can’t talk with his broken jaw, because it’s not Hiei staring him down, but Kuwabara.

Kuwabara smirks at Cassion while he duel wields two different blades, the one in his left radiating a strange power Cassion had not noticed the human wield before.

Kuwabara points the strange blade at Cassion and cracks, “Looks like some little bitch forgot to drink their respect woman juice today! Let me help you with that!”

Cassion growls, as he wrangles his broken jaw and pushes, trying to painfully lodge the jaw back into place in one go.

A dark amused laugh fills the room, and Hiei appears at Kuwabara’s side. The weakness he had been presenting earlier melts away. Hiei had not been as injured as Cassion had been led to believe. Still, even if he is not severely injured, Hiei is sagging, a hand holding his ribs as he leans against Kuwabara as he tries to find his footing. Uncaring about his weakened state, Hiei grins savagely at Cassion in his weakness.

An old glitter of the violent bandit Hiei used to be shines in his eyes.

“Well Kuwabara, I never thought you’d have something amusing to say. Looks like I was wrong!” Hiei chuckles.

Without taking his eyes from Cassion, Kuwabara pressed into the smaller demon’s touch, and lowered his voice as he asked, “...You alright?”

“I was just biding my time for you to use your Jigen Tō. What took you?” Hiei snorted.

“Yeah, I was kinda busy being a battery for Urameshi’s spirit life energy until he could manage not to beef it without me!” Kuwabara huffed.

Cassion disgusted by the display of comradery between Hiei and a lowly human, shoved his jaw back into place.

Kuwabara made a face as Cassion popped his jaw back in, and blurted a disgusted, “Oh, sick!”

“Kuwabara, get Kurama and Yusuke free,” Hiei instructed, his voice cold as ice as he stepped in front of the taller muscular man. Hiei could sense Cassion's killing intent, even if Kuwabara did not. “I’m going to finish off Cassion.”

Kuwabara nodded, and to Cassion’s great irritation and begrudging amazement, the human sliced a hole under his feet with that strange sword, and disappeared through it, the portal closing off once he had fallen through. To the side, Kuwabara reappeared in front of the glass box, Kurama gathering up the still unmoving Yusuke Urameshi. The fox did not seem surprised by Kuwabara's actions, merely eager to escape the glass cage.

Cassion had been played... Hiei's friends were a bit tougher than he thought.

Hiei rolled his head from side to side, cracking the bones of his neck audibly. The bandages on his arm burned away as a seeping black and purple energy began to crackle off his arm. Pointing his enflamed limb at Cassion, Hiei growled, “Now… I think you were saying something disrespectful about my friends...”

Red eyes burned like flames.

“I dare you to say it again!”

[simayeeet]

pretending there was a pride month 2000 yrs ago for this shitpost to work

[contractbound]

more chen/yu vale thoughts, but specifically related to the main world quest series.

my thoughts unrelated to the questline can be found here

978 words

overall, i found the questline interesting, and a welcome addition to what we already knew. the echoes of an offering artifact set painted a compelling but incomplete picture. much of it was expanded on in the questline, along with other things being introduced, allowing for more clear understanding. unsurprisingly, i came out of the questline still harboring questions, but that can only be expected, so i'm not discontent. having this much to chew on is fine enough for me, for now.

one thing these quests established that felt like a breath of fresh air was how they blurred the line between "adep/tus" and "non-adep/tus". in particular, fu/jin's dialogue about how "no one is born an adep/tus, and no one stays an adep/tus forever" stood out to me. i imagine among mortals in-universe, the divide between adep/ti and non-adep/ti can seem clear-cut. some could consider it a divide between species, lifespans, ability, power, and knowledge — what is second nature to one party may be unfathomable to the other. so, i find moments like these interesting when gen/shin blurs the lines between us.

this is a little tangential, but specifically in the case of mortals, adep/ti have been adep/ti for their entire lifespan and more, so from their perspective, we may as well have been adep/ti forever. since the game follows the perspective of a new arrival to tey/vat as well, it's possible for players to develop a similar perspective. adep/ti were adep/ti long before the traveler had arrived, so we may give off the initial impression that we are eternal, and easily identified. there are a good few cases though, where gen/shin states the contrary.

in particular, hearing the perspectives of other adep/ti is invaluable to me, especially from someone like fu/jin. many of us tend to be proud, and at times imposing, but fu/jin isn't like that. she's modest, perhaps even to her detriment. she has the experience and the humbleness required to reflect on existence as an adep/tus in a more raw and honest way. if only she could have a little more confidence in herself and her abilities....

another individual that stood out to me particularly strongly was ling/yuan. it's nothing earth-shattering or profound; i just relate to her, to an extent. it hit close to home how she was more isolated, and couldn't understand the whims and tastes of mortals. there had been a few times where i too thought about what it might be like if everything "reset", so to speak, and humans no longer interfered with the environment. still, there was never any real desire or effort behind those thoughts; it was only idle musings. after all, the lives and desires of mortals were intertwined with mine for most of my life, whether or not i want to accept it.

still, i can also understand being stuck to one's ways. i can understand going about your life thinking certain behaviours are simply your nature, and you have no desire (or perhaps not even the ability) to go against it. it also resonated with me when she had to come to terms with the fact she'd gone against her "nature", and felt compelled to understand more. i hope to hear more of her perspective in the future.

a final thing that stood out to me particularly strongly was chen/yu vale's former god — fu/jin, ling/yuan, and herb/lord's former master. not much information was given, but it was enough to sound suspiciously familiar. how this "unnamed god" was described makes me wonder if she's the same god i served before mor/ax came along. i don't want to go into too much detail, but i'll write down the gist of my thoughts.

for one, fu/jin described this god as having "made many dreams come true". this is probably the single line that gives my suspicions the most substance. it sounds like something that would have been within my former lord's power and jurisdiction, considering they ate dreams in excess during the war. in tey/vat, "dream" is a word that holds a certain weight — i doubt such wording of fu/jin's dialogue was unintentional. there's also the matter of my personal connection to dreams within my canon, but i'll write about that another time.

another thing that sounded familiar to me was fu/jin describing the god as having "gone mad seeking the position of a god who may rule this world, or perhaps seeking survival". while as of now, i personally have no conclusive knowledge of the reasoning behind my former god's motives (and may never attain it), these sentiments fall in line with some possibilities i've thought of.

the morality of the ar/chon war isn't clear-cut. it's been established many times that bloodshed was the only option. whether i forgive or absolve my former god for what they've done is another story entirely, but we cannot assume certain gods are wholly good while others are wholly bad, especially not during a time like the ar/chon war. i had been considering for some time now if perhaps the prospect of power had driven them mad, or if they simply threw morality out the window just to survive. either way, it was affirming to see fu/jin describe my exact thoughts.

thinking back on their powers, and on their affinity for dreams, i've wondered for some time too whether or not their abilities had a more benevolent use. had their spent their whole reign mistreating their subjects, or was there a time where they treated humans' dreams kindly? could the ar/chon war have changed or corrupted them? if fu/jin and i truly do share the same former lord, i suppose my questions are answered. but until either the game's canon or my own memories confirm this, i can only continue to speculate.

regardless, i feel no sympathy for them. whether their temperament was innate or acquired, that doesn't change a thing.

[60inchyugiohheadcanons]

On Jōnouchi's ADHD (1.39k words)

This headcanon is probably the longest on this blog; it's some compiled thoughts on how growing up with (undiagnosed) ADHD has affected Jōnouchi. It's halfway between headcanon and fanfiction piece, and was requested by @bloodyscott, whom I kept waiting for too long for a response. I apologise sincerely for the delay.

This headcanon begins below the cut, as it's obscenely long. You may find it more comfortable to read this from the blog page, or on Archive of Our Own (NOTE: tumblr is acting strange. To access the page, copy the link and manually remove the href.li portion and the second https), rather than on your dashboard/search, in terms of formatting and such.

From infancy, Jōnouchi wailed his way out of his crib, out of his room, out of his house—as a baby, he thrashed towards whatever freedom he could find. He loathed the four walls of the crib; he'd scarce room to move. A skin infection brought him, aged 4, to hospital, and the very sight of overrun grey plastic seats and skinny cubicles exhausted him more than his illness had ever threatened to.

In primary school, others’ desks would blend together in a whir. Here he was, stuck, dizzyingly sedentary—the longer he sat, the foggier the world seemed to grow. When he kicked and whined at other children throughout electric lunch breaks, and they shrank from his vitality, he learned to eat alone. As his peers trudged from class in packs, watching the pavement, he sat, sullen, as his father drove him home. Somehow, Katsuhiro had never trusted him not to lose himself in chasing his surrounds. The fabric of the car seat would bite into his shorts, and he’d squirm for the window, squealing towards the noise outside: Birds that cawed; scraps of paper that fluttered and choked on smog. That was a fragile era, when his mother still waited, with dry hands and chipped nails, at home. When his father already stank of beer, but still spoke loudly, deeply, boisterously. Again and again, Jōnouchi’s mother would sit her son down, and write his name, stroke by agonising stroke. She’d recite each mora in time with each character. Yet sound would cluster through his head, and his own name would dissolve amid his mother’s instructions, amid the blaze of sunlight trapped on the windowsill behind her. He would write, and the strokes would come out rushed, mis-ordered, lopsided. 

Iro wa nioedo 

chirinuru wo.

At 10, his father grew quiet, and his mother yet quieter. Silence took up like a plague in Jōnouchi’s head, and swarmed in shapeless formation throughout parched mathematics lessons. Times tables hurled themselves headlong into a skull full of fog, and burst on contact. Are you listening? a teacher asked. How could he listen with a head full of noise, of unspoken words billowing back and forth? He gripped his seat, and glared back. Why should I care, anyway?

When his mother left, his father stopped caring to chaperone him. It had taken Jōnouchi a decade to earn the right to shed his infancy. He resented that it had been this long, so tried to join the huddle of middle schoolers. He told odd stories, and took off, queasy, in front of them. They withdrew their smiles when he approached on the second day. He growled his plaint, and resentment drove him to take the opposite route. He explored back alleys, wallflower convenience stores and dilapidated cinemas; the faster he walked, the more clearly he could see each brick, and the brighter each fleck in the pavement glinted. At speed, he delayed the journey home, and set his eyes on a gorgeous early winter sunset. The colours bellowed, too bold for winter, ungainly and vain. They were glorious.

Jōnouchi came home late. His father glared; fog crashed back down on his shoulders. 

Wa ga yo tare zo 

tsune naran?

A week before she cleared out too few of Katsuhiro’s belongings and packed too few suitcases, Jōnouchi’s mother drove both children two miles to the optometrist. My son, she explained, reads slowly, yet resents reading; it seems he can’t see very well. My daughter’s sight seems clearer, yet she complains of pain. The optometrist forced Jōnouchi to read down a chart of letters; he fidgeted, and, consumed in memories of a lonely lunch break the day prior, passed with flying colours. When the optometrist flashed a light to photograph his eyes, whatever hideous miracle that was, Jōnouchi screamed.

Katsuya Jōnouchi, the optometrist surmised, had perfect acuity of sight. He sought attention, stimulation. Meanwhile, Shizuka Jōnouchi, who had sat entirely still throughout her examination, had more ragged, derelict peripheral vision than her family had anticipated. Untreated, both your children will get much worse.

And in the months after Shizuka Jōnouchi became Shizuka Kawai and Mrs. Jōnouchi became That Bitch Who Never Cared, Katsuya Jōnouchi became horribly aware of how little time he had to be lethargic. He had to survive this schism; yet as he was, he barely felt capable of thinking. He walked, fidgeted, paced to prove to himself that he was a moving, breathing organism. Yet his father’s frustration would brook no exuberance. Long before Katsuhiro fully committed to flinging glass and spurning his son’s misery, Jōnouchi began learning to move silently, slowly, around his father. He memorised which mats snapped and snagged, which bits of fabric hissed when stepped on. He noted which windows opened most quietly. And yet he never managed a perfect, quiet exit. He couldn’t help but be conspicuous; he could only hope to get out too quickly for his father to react. And, to lift the torpor that followed escape, he would run to school, and, after, run back. Never did the sun shine brighter than when he was moving.

Uwi no okuyama

kyou koete.

When he met Hirutani, did he become more violent? No; every punch he threw during his delinquency had waited, kinetic and desperate, for days, months, years. In classrooms, his sole responses to being ordered around had been sullen deference, with sullenness being his sole demonstration of rebellion. Now, threatened with the obsolescence of his ego, of his perceived freedom, he chained himself to violence, over and over. The first time he punched a man in the gut, he found himself shaking. And rather than sink into sallow, domestic remorse, he slathered himself in white rage. And he went back and he went back and he went back, helpless to his own instincts, trying to dredge the noise in his skull out through his fists. No matter how many punches he threw, and no matter how many he received, he could not stop his head from blazing anew the moment he walked away.

Did Duel Monsters afford him any peace? He would be no man’s losing dog; nor would he be confined to dull celebrity. To play as a strategist consigned him to sitting still, committing himself to gambits he could never entirely trust, to moves that demanded a clear head. To play too whimsically would doom him to inferiority. Thus, he gave half his heart to diligence, and half to sheer fortune. Nobody could idolise his kind of folly, nor devalue his kind of skill. This was Jōnouchi’s will—to eschew having to wait in the mire of expectation; to escape the fog of obligation to anyone’s morals but his own. Honour suited him, so long as it was on his meticulous terms. In games of Duel Monsters, he became a knight-errant of sorts: predictably unpredictable, unexpectedly canny, blindly faithful. With this relationship to his own fate laid out so, he could finally draw cards without fearing those next to come. And thus, hyperkinetic, he found a peace in the game. So he played and played until he forgot how long he’d been playing, and Duel Monsters became as second nature.

Asaki yume miji

ei mo suzu.

Two weeks before Jōnouchi’s graduation, Shizuka invited him to her place to dine. Their father was not to join them. Jōnouchi protested, and his desperation died in a pinprick throat. Wisteria spilled itself over the footpath. Each step threatened to plunge, vertiginous, to the ground. 

When Jōnouchi saw his mother, his throat turned to sandpaper. She looked so old.

You cried so much as a baby, she told him. Kicked and screamed to see the world. You weren’t comfortable waiting in your crib—I’d end up coming to you at 4AM, walking you around the perimeter of the house till my heels burned. And you seemed so afraid of all the noises of the night—groaning engines, singing birds. Now, look at you—you’ve grown up so terribly fast.

Could he afford to tell her how even now, he bit down the urge to kick and scream, to launch himself, all fists and sparks, onto his tormentors? No; so, all night, he gripped his glass as tight as he could. The cold lingered and itched on his palms for days. Holding onto things, it seemed, was not so difficult as he’d once believed.

[yourbleedingh3art]

[tempestforged]

Capitano: On Life

He's never given much thought to the idea of mortality, never had time to consider it in lieu of the curse he'd so gracefully accepted for the supposed perversion of the laws of the world. After 100 long, cold, years in the dark, even the concept of time had become something he held little care for. Time flowed differently amidst the unmoving tides, one year in the darkened abyss being two more on the continent to turn him name to memory.

He felt sad, of course he did, for those who found themselves subject to the curse merely for the crime of being a land without the laws of the primordial. The sadness in him coils and twists, the memories of unaging children cursed eternally to never see their face for the hubris of a ruler long gone. Perhaps that was why he'd so willingly followed the one eyed sage, Pierro, from the scarred land.

It took him far too long to grow used to the newfound strength of a life unending, to relearn weapon after weapon that had found itself invented in his absence. All manner of martial and ranged weapon carefully adjusted for the almost giantlike body that seemed to have faded into oblivion outside the frigid northern winds.