ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ
Her visage would take form, it is the colour of a biting winter— and those eyes, though without pupils, ever purposeful.
❝ Do you 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 vengeance,
against those once allied ? ❞
The instant he feels the unmistakable, deathly chill, his sword and pistol are drawn, sharp stare locked upon the Mist for any sign of motion.
"𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧'; 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 '𝐞𝐦."
For @reaverscourge
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ
And so comes that 𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗹𝘆 thick mist — all consuming in its path.
❝ The dead drowned in salt— 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 your very name ❞
if you were to slice open my veins, they would spill black fountain ink. if you were to sever my tongue, my hands would speak for me. / go ahead && gouge my eyes. / i can still see.