shitposting rave 3: Dawn of the third rave

-yes good. Hugs are awesome. Ave hugs Life Support back enthusiastically.-

-they keep looking at the shiny metal. It seems unlike a lot of things they know, but it's also definitly metal and thus kind of familiar! In a way! Except in all the ways in whcih it is new and exciting... Oh oops.-
Oh! Sorry, did you need that back?
-they hold the ingot out to eliana again, offering it back to her.-

 

What are these adorable creatures?

I want to give them so many ~~hugs~~

 

(Apostasia smiles a bit sadly)
Some are dead longer than other species have had a culture. The organics so frighteningly short-lived. But they have all made me proud.
Some of them went on to be Judges themselves and went pede-to-pede with me in politics.
(Apostasia shakes her head and smiles. Her voice is quote fond.)
Brats.

(Apostasia nods) That's good to hear.

Kildrny is working on her last exams to be eligible for the position of Primiritel'. Sometimes I wonder where she left her adolescence.

 

no. i could get it dowvn for you, if you vwant. *Itch's sharklike grin indicates that if she touches that grub, it's going novwhere except her gullet.*

 

We´re mis! -a few mis come over to sniff the orange person- What are you?

 

I entirely agree.

Ah.
-he's quiet for a moment-
I'm glad you had the opportunity to know them all, then.

 

-grins and hands back the drink- Because you asked so nicely.

 

[Seven energetically begins to hug and pet the Mis.]
You guys are so cute~!

I'm just a regular human lol

 

No, you can keep it!

I rather think I can manage.

*she slides off the bookshelf as if to hop down, but instead floats over near to the grub, just over an armlength away* Hello, little thing. What are you doing up here?

 

-takes the drink and drags himself up to place the most disgusting wet gross siblink kiss on Libby's cheek.-
Thanks bro!

 

-SUPER SPARKLY OPTICS! A GIFT!-
THANK YOU! I will keep it safe :3

 

[Orlandeau walks over to the Mi pile and reaches his arms in, attempting to extract the source of the Mis's warm, so that said source of warmth does not suffocate.]

 

Thank you. Their legacy lives on in Scelus. They were little hurricanes of change and imagination and love, and their still living siblings and descendants are, as well. Less time to get all stuck on one thing, I think. We could learn a thing or two from them.

 

*For once, the grub does not snap at the intruder and instead blinks lethargically. Pupating is srs business.*

 

As I make this final entry in this notebook a poison courses through my veins. My plundering has led me to believe that this is quite possibly the very Ashen Blood Plague that ravaged Old Yharnam. For that is where I am presently. I lay against a sharp fence outside of a home, burnt and boarded up, here in Old Yharnam. Once part of this most grand of cities proper it but lies destitute and abandoned now, burned down by its own very citizens. Burned because more than this Ashen Blood which eats away at your veins like fire inside was unleashed in the streets. A Plague of Beasts, most foul and inhuman, that was hunted down until at last the fight was lost and the homes and storefronts were put to the torch.

This is Old Yharnam in which I take this last vial of blood, hoping to extend my time here long enough to leave this last message to the universe at large. This is but one part of the city of Yharnam to which so many of my fellow scholars fled when the good Provost Wilhelm would not approve of their searchings. They pried into the mysteries of the Old Blood, seeking in its red allure the secrets which we all at Byrgenwerth have toiled after ceaselessly. Laurence and his ilk in their rashness sought to imbibe the old blood in an effort to transcend these poor, limited human bodies into something greater. Something positively divine. To raise us to our truest potential so that we may stand with our gods amongst the stars themselves and sing litanies of fate and wonder.

Yet it is not holy ascension that my former colleagues have brought to Yharnam. They brought merely damnation and disease with their zealotry. They have twisted the folk of Yharnam into pandaemonic fiends from beneath the earth. The same slavering beasts that wander the Labyrinth now torment this once great city. I, too, am not free of this curse for I have also partaken of the "Holy Blood Communion". Several times and against my better judgment I performed amateur blood transfusions in an attempt to extend my lifespan as I explore the depths of this city. For this transgression I am cursed. I have at times torn out the innards of my foes with my bear hands, as like a beast myself. My nails turn to long, wicked claws and my arm covered in coarse wolfish fur, if only for a moment.

The final vial has been taken now. It will not be long. There are beasts howling in the streets around me. Even the crows have grown fat and greedy, hungering after the flesh of man as monsters might. I can feel the Ashen Blood tearing me apart from within. Yet I will have made at least this last testament. I will have, in this final entry of my notebook, spread knowledge of the horrors that lie under the gibbous moon shadowing Yharnam, if not understanding. Gods above and below, may neither the words of others or myself impart understanding. Let it simply be known that this cursed city has fallen in on itself for the old adage was so irresponsibly ignored.

Fear the Old Blood.

Sincerely,

Rom of Byrgenwerth Academy

 

Oh, I can hear her whisperings. Deep and vast as the sea. I fear what lies beyond the door, but she tries to sooth me.

 

You're screwed, lady.

 

I am, yes.

I think I will try and focus on this one word. Incessant and repetitive as it is. It is fierce and rough, yet homely. This word, I've heard it before somewhere. When I first came to.

What is it?

 

...run?

 

No, no. Not that. Something deeper. Something more intrinsically human. It rings at the core of myself and, I feel, us all.