dear_mun | On applying for a game: Canon is Dark Souls 3

Why "Ashen one"? [She is a Namer, so the choice intrigues her.]

Oh, what have we here brother, another has addressed us?

[ Lothric is slow and steady in how he talks. As if he has all the time in the world to offer an answer. ]

You inquire about the Ashen one? I know not their name, only that they were buried in the unkindled ash of the first flame. They rose from their grave, from the ash they lay dead under... They are the Ashen one... Always have been yet hopefully will not always be.

[Rhapsody is definitely "another" in most senses of that descriptor. She is quite a sight to behold with her sun-gold hair, emerald green eyes and perfect skin. Really, there is a long story behind all of those traits and it involves the fire at the center of the earth.]

I cannot give you their name, but I can give you mine. I am Rhapsody and you...

You are an ancient, are you not?

[ Lothric had yet to look at the other. Raising his head, the swaddling he wore as robes draped melancholy and light like air, around his face. His skin was pale, almost transparent, lips darkened nearly black and the strands of hair that fell free from under his hood were as white as the driven snow. ]

Rhapsody? How poetic... I am Prince Lothric, Son of Oceiros, brother of Lorian and Ocelotte, though we should interest you not.

An ancient? I ... It's been so long, it's hard to tell...

[ His curse was placed on him thousands of years ago, it is possible to call him an ancient, though the meaning of the word means little to Lothric. ]

Come closer, if you would... Let us gaze upon your youth, bask in the sunlight that emanates from your hair.

[There is something about him that draws her closer without him asking. She does not know him well enough to pity him or feel sympathy for him. Yet he is surrounded by shadows and a chill. She is curious what will become of him if he is warmed.]

I am a musician. [So the name is fitting.] You are royalty.

[Now she feels the first pangs of what could be pity.]

Yes, time passes without our consent; without us even being aware of it. [Thousands of years passed for her while she was within the Earth. When she emerged with Achmed and Gunthor, nothing was right; nothing was as it had been.

Rhapsody kneels before him out of respect, loosening her hair from its usual black velvet tie. It falls around her shoulders in bright waves.]

Edited 2017-04-01 15:32 (UTC)

A musician? How quaint... The great halls of Lothric castle have long since fallen silent.

[ Pity is second to grief for the royal family of Lothric. The curse, the madness, the pain, and war. Lothric tilts his head, allowing her to see his pale and deathly face. ]

Time is a cruel weapon... Slow and unforgiving, yet we have slipped through its fingers and still we remain.

[ Gesturing with his long, spindly, claw-like hands to a body laying on the floor behind where he sits hunched over. His brother, the eldest of three, seemingly dead or resting, like a corpse in aged and weathered armor. ]

Ah, brother look... Her hair... As vibrant as the sun.

[ Reaching out, he ghosts his hand beside her face as if he can feel the warmth itself from her body. ]

Who are you? [The way Lothric speaks makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.]

I am but a fading ember, a flicker in the ash... We are no one of concern if you have come to rest a while...

[ Lothric has that effect on people, though it's his brother that normally has people afraid. His face is hidden under his hood, but he's looking towards the curious stranger. ]

... Have you? Come to rest with us that is?

That is no answer. [His words are spoken in a harsh voice, ragged with emotion.] I need no rest!

[Except he does. Ambition and the hellish egg he wears around his neck are driving him into madness.]

Ah, your temper will grant nothing but sorrow here.

[ Lothric's voice is still just as calm and steady. His brother laying behind him, seemingly dead or sleeping to the untrained eye, softly moved his head, anticipating danger. ]

I that so? We too need no rest, though it is welcomed.

[ So the one before him is going mad? Such a shame. Lothric has some experience with madness, his father was consumed by it. ]

I shall give you our name... In return, you shall give your reasons for disturbing us.

[The mention of sorrow seems to irritate him. Before he met a certain warrior, he did not understand the emotion; he did not have time to consider it. But, yes, now he is full of sorrow; he is full of regret and guilt. Griffith hates it.]

I would never rest near one who could betray me. [Everyone can betray him.

Also how does he explain that he is drawn to these young men because they sound like the voices that haunt him?]

You do not wish to know.

[ Lothric and his elder brother Lorian pick up on the sense of irritation coming from the stranger. Lothric remains calm, however, Lorian starts to stir. Crawling to be at his younger brother's side. ]

Betrayal haunts you? Then you have our condolences... We have no interest in your soul, only what you choose to do with your time here, in our presence.

[ Griffith must have some demons hidden away. If the twin Princes remind him of voices from the past. What a troubled soul he must be. ]

[One of those demons is resting against his chest. Lothric and Lorian might see the eye open, though Griffith doesn't notice it. He never does.]

I have no reason to attack you if you do not attack me. [He draws closer, his sword staying sheathed at his hip. His sharp eyes take in Lorian's movements.] Your brother?

[ Oh, Lothric sees it alright. He watches from underneath the shadow of his hood as the eye cracks open. Tilting his head, thin ashen hair falling around his shoulder in strands like old silk. Tempted to reach out for it, curious of what treasure it might be. ]

If you have come for our flame, then you will perish... If not, then I see no reason to harm you...

[ As Lorian crawls closer, he raises his head, opening his mouth wide as if to roar, yet nothing escapes his lips. Soundless and mute, his eyes covered with a fallen crown. ]

Yes, my dear brother Lorian, Lothric's unyielding sword. And I am Prince Lothric, heir and would be Lord of Cinder.

[ Feeling out with his clawlike hand, pulling his limp body closer to drape over his brother's shoulder. ]

[Griffith's hair is like a cloud, soft and, dare anyone say, fluffy. At the moment, it is less than pristine - as is his attire. He had a rather eventful night that might very well result in his death. Or worse.]

I need no flame. [A small smirk curves his lips.] You object to me?

[He leans in closer, daring Lorian to make the first move.]

We could all use an unyielding sword. I am jealous. [Because he comes from humble origins, he gives the Princes a deep bow.] I am Griffith, leader of the Band of the Hawk.

Edited 2017-04-01 17:24 (UTC)

[ Had they any desire for such elegant things anymore, Lothric may very well have enjoyed how beautiful Griffith's hair looked and felt to touch. However, sensing death and wounds abound, it was best not to push the other man. ]

Then you have no need to taunt my dear brother...

[ Lorian is easy to rile, much to Griffith's approval. Pushing himself up with his smoldering greatsword, sparks of flame and light emit from within the blackened blade. There he kneels, giant in size, angered and willing to fight - However, Lothric clasps his hands together, a blinding, holy light protrudes from between his fingers and shines out. And with that, Lorian is transported off into the distance, Lothric left to fall frail and limp to the ground in his brother's absence. ]

Griffith, leader of the Band of Hawks, I beseech you not to provoke my dear brother. Given your current state, you would surely fall and that would be unfortunate.

[He is soaked in blood from clawing his way to the top. Worst of all, perhaps, is he is unrepentant. Few in any world have Griffith's level of ambition. He is determined to be the sole King of his world.]

There was no taunt. [Merely a challenge! A foolish one, he admits, when he sees the weapon. Yet he doesn't relent or move back. There might be a death wish under his pride; under his ambition to be the best, the strongest, etcetera. His eyes widen when he is...rescued?

How kind.] Careful now. [Griffith offers Lothric his hands - his arms - to hold onto.] How is it that I would "surely fall"?

[ Lorian cries out in silent protest, mute and frustrated, almost crippled due to the burden of sharing his brothers curse. Slowly he crawls his way back to Lothric's side. It may take him some time on his own. ]

No, you are no contender that much is apparent. Though my dear brother's temper is as hot as the sun our family once worshiped. You would do best not to aggravate him. Be it purposefully or not.

[ Taking Griffith's offer of support, Lothric gripped at the man's wrist with his unusually long fingers, a side effect of the Dragon forced into his blood. Weak and fragile, his body like a corpse, as light as silk and with about as much energy as a dying flame. He could not stand, his legs were lame from illness and curse, but he struggled and failed, all the same, slumping into Griffith's body. ]

My thanks... Ah, for you see, many came to kill my brother and me... And all failed. They met their ends at the hands of Lorian's sword and when he met his own end... He rose again and again.

[ Tossing a glance to his slowly approaching brother as he spoke of him. If Lorian could see, perhaps he would be jealous to see his poor little brother in the arms of another? ]

[Griffith's heart is moved by him; he sees himself in Lorian and he understands him to...some degree. There is no one he feels possessive over. Scratch that. There is no one he wants to acknowledge feeling so possessive over.]

Do not think so little of me! I am not finished gaining in strength. There might come a time when I am worthy of competing with your brother.

[He is not a muscular man, but he need not be with how little Lothric weighs. For a moment he watches the struggle. Then he intervenes, drawing the Prince fully into his arms.]

I admire your tenacity. Do you hear that, Lorian? I do admire you. Very much. I would not raise my sword against such a powerful life force. [Unless he had something magnificent to gain. But he leaves that unsaid.]

I see no reason you need to suffer. [Griffith lifts Lothric fully and walks to Lorian. Once he is near, he holds out his free hand.] You asked if I wished to rest. We could do so together.

[ The twin Princes tale is that of much sorrow and grief, madness and horrendous, unnatural actions. The brother's kinship bound their souls, to be apart is a fate worse than death, they would never be whole again. ]

If it is strength you desire, why not join a covenant? Prove your worth and climb the ranks, much like my dear brother. Lorian slew the demon Prince, took the life of the Flame God, Flann. Though crippled from our curse, still he is able and willing to once more raise his sword.

[ He talks with pride in his tone as he speaks of his older brother. Reaching out for him as they near the crawling, mute giant. ]

I believe he hears you... Though, understand you he may not. My dear brother may very well have lost his mind. Your compliment will not go unnoticed however, I shall make sure that he knows how you feel.

[ Lorian trembles with anger and yet composes the urge to attack. His brother has a calming effect on him and though he does not accept Griffith's hand, he does not lunge for him either. ]

Then come, rest with us a while. Watch as the flame dies and the circle is broken.

[ Lorian lays down his sword, leans back on bent knees and falls into a status of waiting. ]

Perhaps... If you see yourself fit, you could draw swords with my dear brother? If not to take our flame, then to test your might and mettle?

[Unnatural actions. Yes. There will be many of those in Griffith's future; his sanity will not be able to hold its own against them. Demons know their business well and he sold his heart - and body - long ago in the conquest for power.]

I am intrigued, though, forgive me for saying, I have no desire to be crippled.

[But he will be. One day soon, he will be like the Princes, unable to do more than crawl when the tendons of his legs and feet are cut.]

Minds are easy to lose. Forgive me for speaking harshly to you, Prince Lorian. [Griffith settles before the giant, holding Lothric in his lap.]

What flame? What circle? Are they his? [He motions at the giant before giving Lothric a smile.] Soon. First I will see to you.

Do you need to eat? Drink?

[ What a terrible thing to have happen to such a bold warrior. Unfortunately, Lothric was born this way, he was crippled from the start, Lorian on the other hand, it was his actions and his choice to be the way he is, he joined Lothric and took on his cures. The things you do for your loved ones. ]

The flame is ours, yours and the Unkindled ones. It is whoever comes to claim it, whoever wishes to relight the first fire. My dear brother and I would rather see it die... Let the past turn to ash, end the circle of Lords of Cinder... Once and for all.

[ Lifting himself up where he sat in Griffith's lap, touching his brother's cheek as the mute giant moved his head. The idea of food and drink hadn't bloomed in Lothric's head for such a long time. It was strange to be asked such a thing. ]

I don't... Forgive me, it's been such a long time... No, we do not truly need it, but we used to enjoy it... Are you suggesting we partake with you?

[Well. This is... something.]

... Prince Lothric.

[ Forgive him, for he doesn't quite recognise you. His head tilts, looking from underneath the swaddling he wore as robes. ]

Ah, another dogged contender is it? Or have you come to rest a while with my dear brother and I?

[That's what happens when you conceal your face with that swag Farron headpiece. But the girl shakes her head.]

I think rest. If that would be okay, I mean.

[She gives a short, but polite bow.]

I've been through a lot and... a chance to just stop and rest would be appreciated.

Please, take your rest where you may.

[ Lothric watches from the shadow of his hood. Lorian laying, like the dead at his side, his head slightly raised, turned in the woman's direction. ]

So long as your rest brings us no strife... We don't get many visitors, tell us, what is it that you have been through, dear wanderer?

[Well where to begin? Other than "well I actually agree with you 100% that the Age of Fire needed to end, sorry I had to kill you anyways in order to help make it happen". But really...]

A lot of everything, but it's... what came at the end that's still shaking me.

I don't like being used, even if it's for a good cause. And, how am I supposed to feel? When someone I thought of as a friend just... does something horrible even if it's for a good cause, knows it's horrible, never actually explains it to me to see if there's another way, just expects me to clean up their mistake before it gets completely out-of-hand... and probably is grateful that I did my part and killed them?

[Seriously Gael, what the hell.]

Going forward with that, looking back and remembering all of that, it's... hard to explain.

Ah, you have suffered a great betrayal, Ashen one. Our sympathies for your tragic suffering.

[ The woman spoke more than the Princes were used to hearing. They had not had company in some time, company that wanted to talk instead of trying and claims their Twin soul that is. It was startling, though you could never tell, their expressions never changed. ]

There are many events hard to comprehend and converse, yet those are the ones we build foundations of lore and fable on. One day, your tale may be shared by bards, profits or preacher. It's a honor to be of the first to partake in its telling.

[That, at the very least, gets a smile out of her. She doesn't have much confidence it'll be some widespread epoch; she'd once been regarded as someone "neither born to greatness nor granted it by fate", and so far that'd held true.]

If it were, it'd just be a part of something a lot bigger. I wasn't the only one who had to deal with that sort of thing. There were a lot of tragedies that came out of the Age of Fire.

[The smile fades somewhat as she looks back over at Lothric and his brother, her gaze not holding for long.]

We are all but side notes for another's great tale.

[ Just take Prince Lothric for example. Born to be the great heir of Cinder, yet malformed and lame, not even as large as the other Gods spawn. Cursed and tossed aside for another attempt. The middle child in a tragic tale born from desire, madness, and sacrifice. No, Lothric would understand her story all too well.

Watching as she dares not to hold his gaze for too long a time. This grows suspicion in the younger prince and unrest in the elder of the two. ]

Have we crossed paths before, Ashen one? There is something, if not fleeting, yet familiar, don't you agree my dear, brother?

[ Touching Lorian's face as he spoke. The giant moving his head, null lips part and echo nothing but air and breath. ]

... We did once before, yes. And even before that, I'd at least heard about you by reputation.

[Yes, they had crossed paths. Swords too, for that matter. And what a simple thing it would be to show the brothers her blade again and let that be explanation enough. But she wasn't here to fight, and she didn't want them to think she was. Instead, she produced her shield for them as a reminder; an old, Astoran shield adorned with a blue crest. No doubt a rare weapon for them to have seen, as it was a poor choice for defending against Lorian's burning sword and Lothric's divine miracles.]

We met before in Lothric. When the Fire was fading and you and the other Lords abandoned it.

And we had to fight. Not because I wanted to Link the Fire... but because I wanted to see it end. Because even the times before there was always... always someone who would just keep it going even if I didn't.

So I had to get to it. I had to get to it and bring with me someone who could tend to it... so they could instead ensure it was snuffed out for good.

[Her shield slipped through her fingers with a soft clank, the girl bowing in apology to the Prince who had shared her views and yet still had to die for the sake of not leaving things to chance for a third time.]

I'm sorry.

I am beset by grief anyway. What good are you sequestered away like a relic?

What good, you ask? There is much need for us to be hidden away. To take my place as it was made for me. To be the sacrifice, the Lord my family, my poor deranged father wanted? No... There is no good to come of that route.

A relic, covered in the dust of past sorrows if far better a life. My dear brother and I must insist on it...

[ So he is a penitent eternally whipping himself with the brunt of memory. Some intimate event known, perhaps, only to remnants like them. ]

You embrace your prison and suffer for it. Will a millennia suffice before you realize the folly of this... [ A shadow of sympathy and scorn passes over his face. ] ...masochism? I argue that you aid me instead.

[ The outsider's argument gained both brothers attention. Prince Lothric tilted his head, the swaddling of his hood swayed, displaying his face for but a moment. His brother pushed himself up slightly, mouth open yet mute and bereft of any sound. ]

Aid you? What cause could you possibly offer us? What need is great enough to turn a blind eye on our own? We are indeed curious, if not some amused.

[ Is his desperation as such that he must bargain with ancient abominations? Pride flares in his chest but it is a paling fire, tempered by the years. He is an old man in a teenaged shell. ]

A greater purpose. My world is diseased, and should I fall the sickness will seep into yours. [ He sweeps a glance at the crumbling architecture. ] What's left of it.

You claim to have forsaken your duty. I've brought you a worthy calling. Redemption by blood.

You speak of sickness, disease and of a dying world as if I would care?

[ Lothric extends an arm, thin with hardly any flesh on it, as narrow as bone itself. His dragon-like talloned fingers gesture to the room around them. ]

Please, take a look for yourself. Can thou not see it? We welcome the end with open arms. This is our grave, untended and unknown... What good is redemption for we who have already accepted death?

[ The small one was strong, Lothric could feel it simply by his presence. He was ever curious about his cause, but was it enough to lure him? ]

Mayhap my dear brother and I can be swayed from our solitude? Aid our strength to your cause... What then? What comes after? You remain here in our chapel, tucked away at the ends of eternity? Keep the contenders from our door so that we may finally find rest?

You'll be made to care.

[ The contagion at hand has no respect for the duo's private retreat hence the only means to extend their solitude is to take up arms or consign themselves to a fate worse than the slow entropy of their universe.

His gaze tracks the performance of that gangling limb. One narrows his eyes—an invalid! But not of the typical sort. He emanates the black aura of a sorcerer.

His fingers itch for the hilt of the dragonbone blade but he suppresses instinct and stays his hand. His quarry is frequently led by practitioners of magic and he's come to distrust their kin (his own kin), but this isn't the time for old prejudices. ]

You want a sentinel because you intuit that I won't die?

[ The prince asks for a period of his life in exchange for the entirety of his. An unconscious smile touches his lips. Like One doesn't really see a future. ]

It's decided. You are my executioner until I am yours, and rest assured, I'll cut down any who intrude on your silence.

On applying for a game: Canon is Dark Souls 3

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Sorry I'm so late. RL had been dire >.<

I'm sorry to hear that >_<. Hope things improve soon

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Sorry I'm so late. RL had been dire

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