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Character of the Season
Once known as the Butcher of Whitebrim, he's now The Butcher of Dygra, stepping forward as the first created demigod of the Ancients. There is no question that Astaroth casts an intimidating silhouette. Tall, domineering and dangerous, if looks could kill you'd be dead already, but to get up close and personal with the Grounds' resident cannibal tells a much different story. Dripping with charm and clad in only the finest attire, Asta is a gentleman monster, as polite as they come and committed to his role as security for the Dusklight and those who have earned his loyalty. Be careful of that smile, though - those teeth are sharp.
Congratulations, Asta!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
OG Skinning provided by Kaons, with functionality and many custom plugins made by Neowulf!
It takes time, reassuring words, and an oath of constant vigilance while he sleeps, for Luka to finally settle. Watching the rise and fall of his son's chest, it slams into Sah yet again how close he came to losing him. Running a hand through his hair he lets out a shaky breath and reaches through his bond to Lilly. The silver she-wolf was still upstairs guarding Soleil alongside Pad and Frog. Pad and Frog remained at their post as their sister glances at the door.
Lilly walks closer to Soleil, gently nudging the girl and licking her face to wake her. When the young woman rouses, her father's companion will gently lead her downstairs where she'll find her brother asleep on the couch and her father sitting on the floor with his back leaning against Luka's shoulder.
The expression she'll find on Sah's face is one of grim determination with bloodshot eyes, and a tense jaw. His eyes scan the house in a methodical circuit, only stopping to turn and lock eyes with his daughter, "Soleil. Come here, pup. " The hybrid keeps his voice low so as not to wake his son.
I think therefore I am, But what if all I do is bleed?
She sleeps, Diana curled against her spine as she always does, and the dark of forgotten sun feels no different than natural twilight. It feels the same as any other night in the ease of her own breathing and the mild, shapeless dreams that play behind her eyelids. She sleeps peacefully. Unaware of how the world is twisting and creaking, threatening to crack, and drawing blood out of her family that she had previously naively believed was made out of stone.
Lilly’s urging tongue across her face makes her wrinkle her nose and try to shift her face away a few times, but it’s a fruitless attempt at chasing the quickly dissipating fog of sleep. Soleil has never had her brother’s dubiously useful talent of being unable to return to sleep once woken, more the type to fall back asleep the second parental eyes are off her, but something in her chest that feels displaced and unsettled urges her to resist that.
She descends the stairs more quietly than she normally ever would. The feeling of wrongness won’t leave her be, like the preternatural dread that some experience right before a loved one dies. Only she’ll come to find out that she feels this stone in her stomach far too late. She’ll wonder if it means she doesn’t love her twin enough, and she’ll be unable to sleep for two straight days. But right now she can only creep uncertainly across their living room, face pinched with confusion and worry at seeing Luka sleeping curled up nearly fetal on the couch when she never sees him sleep outside of his own bed.
Her dad’s face as it turns is scarcely visible in the dark, but it’s a visage that will haunt her. Bloodshot eyes and a wire-tight jaw. Her name sounds like chopped metal in his mouth. Soleil feels ice slide down every vertebrae in her back as she meekly approaches and sits immediately beside him, back against the front of the couch as she slides under his arm. “What’s wrong?” Sol has never been good at whispering, has earned the scorn of every teacher and librarian she’s ever crossed paths with, but tonight she finds that ability to be easily within reach for the first time.
Staying quiet will become an impossibility as her father explains all that transpired while she was blissfully, damningly asleep. But for now ignorance is bliss - even the tense, wondering kind - and it will be the last bliss she’ll ever truly know.
- Fin
kiss me like I'm a conviction, beg for divinity in my grasp
