✶ » @daemonizing .
raw chill brushed ‘gainst skin, minacious / tranquil profile of ruins establish a gloomy backdrop. from every microscopic air gram, epidemic imbued in cavernous & abundant societies. nay – humankind compel into locations where holy endeavors, monstrosities patient ❪ until white glow quenched ❫ / valor pushing them back. tonight, clear skies & prodigious daemons, eschewing divinity ; feeble things, incapable of anything else beside ruination. he, amused in their oncoming annihilation. but – someone drew him here.
singular blue inspected ‘pon countenance betrayal wrought, vermilion hair tousled. insomnia’s castle maintained its grandeur, excluding starscourge outside. within untouched & bitterness on tongue’s tip.
❝ – the infernian’s work. ❞ verification unneeded, for bahamut knew – & the cosmos fed winged-dragon knowledge. a quiet, unpredictable arrival / onyx leather shoes reflecting light’s benevolence.
presage samples across tongue, a portending rigidity wielding solitary jaw as idle heights loiter nearest an eye to the city. the window — skeletal beauty exuded through its translucence — magnifies an isolate temperament of the ‘ usurper ’ lurking within the uppermost corridors of the citadel. mutilating humanity’s resilience and harmonizing the sacrilege of its evolutionary deterioration ( into daemons ), he grasps at the vespers for its cadaver.
mankind petitions an evening ‘ prayer ’ through silent deliberation, ruminating an attempt of their uprising, whilst the gloaming embers of the cosmos’s omission smolder behind amber glare of its accursed. the principle of memory caresses ardyn’s observance as he gazes to the malformity of darkness below — the jurisdiction of his scourge — and collects the silhouette of spontaneity; an ‘ ego ’ most audacious in approach.
“ you are the first , but surely not the last to visit me —— have you come for the people , or yourself , i wonder ? hmhn … you are shorthanded , devoid of the sovereign i yearn for , and yet —— you cannot possibly be a martyr . some ‘ nameless practitioner ’ endeavoring to cure our light’s erosion … are you exploring insomnia to find me ? no — i mean nothing to you . the world knows not of my bond to its scourge —— unless … ” fingers broaden against splay of glass — evocative — whilst eyes immerse themselves with the advance of anonymity; castle’s entrance a formidable invitation.
“ ——— you are not what you appear to be ; who you appear to be . ”