unalloyedkindness

[unalloyedkindness]

thiquella, if i'm being honest

[unalloyedkindness]

Miquella the Kind? more like Sticcquella the Malnourished. have some protein sir get some meat on those bones

". . ."

Blink. Blink. He looks down at himself, tilts his head slowly.

"I am not... malnourished. Though I thank you for your concern."

[unalloyedkindness]

|| OOC: ...And Then I Had Writer's Block And Disappeared For Days—

i am. So sorry. i'll make any replies i owe and answer any asks i have today 🙇‍♂️

|| OOC: gonna get me some eep, and in the morning, i'll make replies and send asks! might also write a lil' angsty flashback/memory scene on here and my trina account too, because these two break my whole heart alsmamxnsmxn

[unalloyedkindness]

|| OOC: gonna get me some eep, and in the morning, i'll make replies and send asks! might also write a lil' angsty flashback/memory scene on here and my trina account too, because these two break my whole heart alsmamxnsmxn

[unalloyedkindness]

Ask Call!

Like this post for an in-character ask from Miquella! Or, if you'd prefer to send an ask yourself, the askbox is open and asks are always appreciated!

(For multimuse blogs, please let me know which muse you'd like the ask to be for!)

[unalloyedkindness]

Delicate fingers caress the golden petals of a particular sort of lily; the kind which, in days long by, used to adorn his hair and bring joy to his heart. He recalls picking them up wherever he went; the golden capital that had been his childhood home, the town of Sellia while paying a visit to the one who would go on to be his consort, the frigid yet beautiful snowfields outside his Haligtree.

Now, though, there is no feeling in his heart as he gazes upon the flower. It is just that: a pretty flower, no more and no less. He can remember the excitement he once felt every time he'd happen upon one of these lilies - that feeling remains untarnished in his memory - yet now... it is a dulled, vague sort of interest that passes as quick as it comes.

A sigh, soft and barely noticeable, escapes him. Pale golden eyes flutter closed, and he allows the flower to fall from his fingers, the gold of its petals shimmering against the white of his dress.

...It is another beautiful day in the voyage guided by compassion. One in which its god is none too emotional, none too passionate, and none too wanting.

Yet the god can remember a time in which he had been all those things. And although he does not regret his decisions leading up to this point, cannot regret his decisions leading up to this point... he cannot help but wonder, not for the first time, what it would be like if he could still feel joy every time he so much as happened upon a golden lily in the wild.

[unalloyedkindness]

"Ah..."

Golden eyes wander downwards for a moment, and two of his three hands clasp together for a moment in thought.

"The family are... well enough, so far as I know. I have been..."

A pause, and his eyes look momentarily wide, as though he's... elsewhere.

"...away, for some time..."

He shakes his head just a tiny bit to clear away less than pleasant memories of Mohgwyn Palace; of being stolen away from his Haligtree. Reminding himself to smile, he continues on.

"As for where we are... this is the Land of Shadow."

One golden and transparent hand reaches out to rest lightly on Radahn's shoulder, and despite the emptiness in his gaze, Miquella looks genuine in his fondness.

"It is the one place in which we, at last, could honour our vow."

@unalloyedkindness

He wakes up, as if from a long dream. His body feels strangely new and small... as it hasn't been in centuries, but his memories are hazy. How long has he slept? He cannot remember well. Were his dreams of bloody conquest mere dreams? Is he but a young man still, back home in Caria? No, that isn't right. He remembers living in Leyndell, and then it comes back to him. Father's betrayal. The Academy's betrayal.

His home is no longer what it once was... Where is he, then?

He opens his eyes and tries to sit up. Something is wrong with him. And this place... is entirely unfamiliar. Did someone take him captive? No, that would be absurd. Who could possibly ever defeat him in a fight? Perhaps, as it was his habit in his youth, he celebrated a little too hard with his men and now cannot remember how he got here? But it still feels like large chunks of his memory are missing.

Is no one here, he wonders, who could explain to him what happened?

[unalloyedkindness]

FINALLY i was able to draw Miquella to go with my Malenia piece! I was planning on doing one ever since I finished Malenia, i just had to wait for the DLC so i could, yknow, actually see him lmao

Description:

Kindly Miquella prepares to leave behind his right arm, and eventually his entire body, in order to ascend to godhood. His alter ego, St. Trina, is entangled with him via flesh and hair, but she too will be cast aside. At each site of Miquella's sacrifices, he leaves behind a crescent cross made of his golden grace. These crosses mark his journey to the Divinity Gate, where he will finally ascend. Above the land looms the Scadutree, its black branches oozing and tangled with great ethereal shrouds that drape across the entire sky.

[unalloyedkindness]

Radahn's happiness is enough to bring a little smile to Miquella's lips. It doesn't quite touch his eyes, looks a bit hollow; but it is as genuine as it tends to get these days.

His elder brother's abrupt movement brings a slight widening of his eyes, barely noticeable; and one of three hands raises as if to reach out to him. Thankfully though, Radahn seems fine, simply examining his new body... the new additions that come with it, courtesy of its former owner. His hands settle before himself once more, clasped demurely.

"...you are unable to remember."

It's a statement, not a question. Blond hair touches the floor as his head tilts curiously.

"Indeed, you fell in battle. Long ago. Your mind and your body were rotted away, until you met your final end on the field of battle..."

That smile, soft and pleasant yet somehow empty, touches his lips again.

"But there is nothing to fear, lord brother. Such earthly struggles now lie far behind you. Now, you will know nothing but peace... And so too will these lands in their entirety, in the age that we will bring about."

@unalloyedkindness

He wakes up, as if from a long dream. His body feels strangely new and small... as it hasn't been in centuries, but his memories are hazy. How long has he slept? He cannot remember well. Were his dreams of bloody conquest mere dreams? Is he but a young man still, back home in Caria? No, that isn't right. He remembers living in Leyndell, and then it comes back to him. Father's betrayal. The Academy's betrayal.

His home is no longer what it once was... Where is he, then?

He opens his eyes and tries to sit up. Something is wrong with him. And this place... is entirely unfamiliar. Did someone take him captive? No, that would be absurd. Who could possibly ever defeat him in a fight? Perhaps, as it was his habit in his youth, he celebrated a little too hard with his men and now cannot remember how he got here? But it still feels like large chunks of his memory are missing.

Is no one here, he wonders, who could explain to him what happened?

[unalloyedkindness]

"Lord brother. At long last, you are returned."

The General does not need to wait alone for long; a voice - similar to one Radahn would have heard before, but not as bright, not as emotional - soon sounds from somewhere behind him.

Unhurried and graceful footsteps bring Miquella to his promised consort, dulled gold eyes glancing over his form. The demigod's revival appears to have taken successfully; his eyes are open, the body is uninjured, he is able to move...

For once, a part of his plan to create a better word seems to be going smoothly.

That makes a change.

"Please do not exert yourself too much," he says, gaze lifting from Radahn's newly-given body to meet his own eyes. "It may take some time for your strength to return in full after your revival. If you must move... start slowly; flex your fingers, rotate your wrists."

Although he is trying to offer kindness, advice... Miquella's own demeanour, serene to an almost unnatural degree, is likely as inherently wrong as— everything else in this situation.

@unalloyedkindness

He wakes up, as if from a long dream. His body feels strangely new and small... as it hasn't been in centuries, but his memories are hazy. How long has he slept? He cannot remember well. Were his dreams of bloody conquest mere dreams? Is he but a young man still, back home in Caria? No, that isn't right. He remembers living in Leyndell, and then it comes back to him. Father's betrayal. The Academy's betrayal.

His home is no longer what it once was... Where is he, then?

He opens his eyes and tries to sit up. Something is wrong with him. And this place... is entirely unfamiliar. Did someone take him captive? No, that would be absurd. Who could possibly ever defeat him in a fight? Perhaps, as it was his habit in his youth, he celebrated a little too hard with his men and now cannot remember how he got here? But it still feels like large chunks of his memory are missing.

Is no one here, he wonders, who could explain to him what happened?

[unalloyedkindness]

wasn't expecting miquella to have some sort of eclipse inside his eyes (x)

[unalloyedkindness]

ミケラの王、ラダーン / Radahn Consort of Miquella by ずろ❄️Zlofsky (Zlofsky2nd)

[unalloyedkindness]

miquella hurts my heart because what moore said— that is miquella's love. love to banish the pain. love for the unloved. love for all those turned away by the golden order. the minor erdtree incantation description, only the kindness of gold without order— that describes so perfectly what miquella was and would've remained, if he wasn't so desperate to right past wrongs - wrongs that weren't even his own - that he gave up too much of himself.

miquella is kind. miquella is kind beyond reason. miquella is kind beyond self-preservation and rationality; because everything that he did, no matter how cruel it was to others or to himself, was from a place of kindness.

to make the world a gentler place.

to make a world where the unloved won't have to remain sad forever.

[unalloyedkindness]

thinking about miquella who can care but cannot love.

thinking about miquella gazing at his dear one who he knows he should love, knows he would love, but knows he does not love.

thinking about miquella in a dreamlike dissociative state, detached from the world, so concerned for the world, yet unable to embrace the world.

thinking about miquella thinking of the beauty in the world, thinking of gentleness and support and compassion, and feeling the tears spilling down his face— but he does not know when they started spilling, and he's even starting to forget why.

thinking about miquella desperately trying to show compassion. he cannot love but he can care. please let him show you how much, even if it hurts him. please accept his care.

thinking about miquella who cannot doubt himself, but questions still... what is this hollow ache in his chest, and why does it never go away?

thinking about miquella who cannot fear, but so desperately wants to cling to what little he has left, to the compassion he wants to believe he still has; even if he has to throw away what's left of himself to do it.

thinking about miquella who cannot love but can care.

thinking about miquella who cannot love but can care so very much.

[unalloyedkindness]

To Miquella the Kind. O Kindly Miquella, what have you done? How will you bear your sins? When will your punishment arrive?

For a moment, his eyes are wide. These questions... resonate perhaps too much. They are not unlike questions he'd asked himself, long ago; before he'd set out, before he'd begun abandoning himself.

...The moment passes. His expression settles into something as purposefully neutral as his tone.

"All that I have done since accepting my task... every step I have taken, every breath I have drawn... is for the good of this world, and all who live within it."

A long breath, and his eyes fall closed.

"As for my sins, and any punishment therein... I have long endeavoured to embrace and welcome all things. So too do I embrace and welcome this."

[unalloyedkindness]

Golden eyes, pale and dulled, gaze out at the world from atop his Haligtree. As always, the view is impeccable; a beautiful sight from a magnificent tree, one which stands taller and healthier than ever after its restoration.

...Yet Miquella's heart does not swell with love for the view, nor the tree, nor its many precious denizens. It should, and it once did; but it does not now, has not for a long time.

Miquella realises that this is an abnormal feeling; and it is not one that sits right with him.

But there is no way to change it now; and after all that has happened, there is no way he would wish to. Such sacrifices are heavy; but the gentle world he has so longed for... it is worth any loss.

And so, he continues to gaze out, his face impassive; as impassive as it ever is, no matter how joyous the occasion.

[unalloyedkindness]

let your thoughts... be only of love.

an 18+ only roleplay blog for miquella, of elden ring.

askbox is open.

tags and starters welcomed.

multiverse/crossover roleplays welcomed.

serious roleplay and crack roleplay welcomed.

rules | portrayals