07-25-2017, 02:19 PM
you can have my isolation,
you can have the hate that it brings.
you can have the hate that it brings.
He had been there since the beginning.
Quiet. Watching, waiting.
Power did not appeal to him, but it did come naturally to him. He is a foreboding presence – towering, with dark, inky flesh marred with puckered scarring, and deep, unwavering eyes of crimson. He does not need to speak to command attention, nor does he need to draw attention to himself by any drastic means. He is often stoic and unwavering – a motionless, unflinching pillar of indifference – but beneath the apathy lay a plethora of emotion and thought, with a heavily churning set of gears, always moving, always turning.
He is not unfeeling; he has loved and he has lost. He has been a lover, a father, a companion, an enemy – one cannot merely exist nearly two centuries without living, after all. Not without becoming restless. Yet, time had taught him to conceal his emotion, and so it is not often that is permits it to unfurl from the hearth of his chest, where a tired and weary heart lay beating merely for the sake of doing so.
Alas, even he cannot retreat into his memories forever. He had faded into the obscurity of the volcanic island, lingering elsewhere amid the long tendrils of grain and the bubbling pools of magma, with its unnatural glow illuminating the darkness of his unexceptional features beneath a dimly lit sky – but he had been watching. Watching, waiting. The volcanic island had been his refuge in the aftermath of the Reckoning – it had been the refuge of so many, and quietly, he had watched the territory grow, prosper, and slowly fade.
Such was the way with any territory. Like the never-ending ebb and flo of the ravenous sea, like the tide raking itself over the ivory sand of the shore, it had changed. He would change with it.
A low, rumbling chuckle bubbles forth from the confinement of his throat, an amused glint glimmering in the darkness of his searing, burning eyes of brimstone and fire. At the corner of his mouth, a faint smile tugs at the supple skin, baring his teeth – if only slightly. He did not often permit his guard to fall, but Dahmer exudes a genuine contentment that is contagious. Stiffly, he adjusts the heft of his weight from one leg to the next, as his gaze finally averts away from the brightened features of his face, seeking instead to trace the jagged lines of the steep, pluming volcano, momentarily drifting off in thought.
”You are familiar with Ellyse, I imagine,” he muses aloud, glancing for a moment to gauge the reaction of the other. ”she is currently the only one remaining on the council. I would like to take what Magnus and I built a step further, and implement the council in any and all diplomatic proceedings.”
He pauses, then.
”I do not want to be a King anymore, Dahmer. The kingdoms have fallen, and change has come. It is time to change with it. My position will only be known as the Overseer, and the council will hold as much say as I. An oligarchy, if you will. I will need an advisor that is knowledgeable of each territory, and their diplomatic standings – an advisor that can act as a liaison between the Head of War and the Head of Peace – and myself. Furthermore, the advisor will oversee the guard that will be implemented to monitor our borders. Should you still be interested in the position, I ask that you familiarize yourself with the history of the territories, the Head of War, and in time, familiarize yourself with me. I will decide by the end of the winter as to who I will be appointing to the council.”
Quiet. Watching, waiting.
Power did not appeal to him, but it did come naturally to him. He is a foreboding presence – towering, with dark, inky flesh marred with puckered scarring, and deep, unwavering eyes of crimson. He does not need to speak to command attention, nor does he need to draw attention to himself by any drastic means. He is often stoic and unwavering – a motionless, unflinching pillar of indifference – but beneath the apathy lay a plethora of emotion and thought, with a heavily churning set of gears, always moving, always turning.
He is not unfeeling; he has loved and he has lost. He has been a lover, a father, a companion, an enemy – one cannot merely exist nearly two centuries without living, after all. Not without becoming restless. Yet, time had taught him to conceal his emotion, and so it is not often that is permits it to unfurl from the hearth of his chest, where a tired and weary heart lay beating merely for the sake of doing so.
Alas, even he cannot retreat into his memories forever. He had faded into the obscurity of the volcanic island, lingering elsewhere amid the long tendrils of grain and the bubbling pools of magma, with its unnatural glow illuminating the darkness of his unexceptional features beneath a dimly lit sky – but he had been watching. Watching, waiting. The volcanic island had been his refuge in the aftermath of the Reckoning – it had been the refuge of so many, and quietly, he had watched the territory grow, prosper, and slowly fade.
Such was the way with any territory. Like the never-ending ebb and flo of the ravenous sea, like the tide raking itself over the ivory sand of the shore, it had changed. He would change with it.
A low, rumbling chuckle bubbles forth from the confinement of his throat, an amused glint glimmering in the darkness of his searing, burning eyes of brimstone and fire. At the corner of his mouth, a faint smile tugs at the supple skin, baring his teeth – if only slightly. He did not often permit his guard to fall, but Dahmer exudes a genuine contentment that is contagious. Stiffly, he adjusts the heft of his weight from one leg to the next, as his gaze finally averts away from the brightened features of his face, seeking instead to trace the jagged lines of the steep, pluming volcano, momentarily drifting off in thought.
”You are familiar with Ellyse, I imagine,” he muses aloud, glancing for a moment to gauge the reaction of the other. ”she is currently the only one remaining on the council. I would like to take what Magnus and I built a step further, and implement the council in any and all diplomatic proceedings.”
He pauses, then.
”I do not want to be a King anymore, Dahmer. The kingdoms have fallen, and change has come. It is time to change with it. My position will only be known as the Overseer, and the council will hold as much say as I. An oligarchy, if you will. I will need an advisor that is knowledgeable of each territory, and their diplomatic standings – an advisor that can act as a liaison between the Head of War and the Head of Peace – and myself. Furthermore, the advisor will oversee the guard that will be implemented to monitor our borders. Should you still be interested in the position, I ask that you familiarize yourself with the history of the territories, the Head of War, and in time, familiarize yourself with me. I will decide by the end of the winter as to who I will be appointing to the council.”
you can have my absence of faith,
you can have my everything.
you can have my everything.
OFFSPRING
@[Dahmer]