necrophcge

[necrophcge]

Okay, so, if someone could reblog this this woudl be lovely so other followers can see this.

I am currently shadowbanned, and I cannot recieve ask, messages, or anything. I'm currently trying to fix it, but if it is not solved soon, I will be moving.

Until then, please add me on discord if you want to talk. I won't get notifs about replied threads nor will you see if I reply to anything (as of right now, I stopped doing replies).

Anywho, see you on discord til I get this fixed.

#ooc tag. #// Mega Cringe on tumblr's part

[necrophcge]

// meddles playlist whilst i waste away at work like a distraught victorian lady who shan't see her beloved e'er again.

#ooc tag. #// bullshit aside: happy friday!

[necrophcge]

Presented with the revelation of her true nature, she found her previous shock mirrored in what little expression there was to find in a Kindred's face compared to that of a human; of mandibles suddenly slackened, of pedipalps frozen in place and the tension of his form foretelling an attack severed in an instant. More telling were the pheromones that crept from his chitin plates as he simply stared at, meaningless smells to any but a fellow child of Rot that spoke of disbelief-doubt and uncertainty-concern... and then the tiniest, most meager scent of tenuous hope-longing from beneath it.

He seemed a statue for a moment, then two, as if turned to stone save for his many-eyes, which flickered across her face and form as if to try and discern the true shape of Cotesia beneath the illusion of humanity she presented. Only at the raise of her head did he respond, the spell seemingly broken as he in turn jerked his own, mandibles tap-tapping in acknowledgement but not submission. "Action without consideration is the nature of beasts," he murmured almost to himself, seeming to regret it immediately if the sudden harshness in his subharmonics was proof of anything. "We were meant for more than that."

At the turn of her gaze upon his sundered limbs, he pulled the cloak closer about him with the lower pair of remaining arms almost as if it were an afterthought. "They were a necessary sacrifice, considering my given tasks. Had I known we were capable of such obfuscation as yourself though, perhaps they needn't have been lost..." Whether he'd intended to elaborate further or not was unclear, for the pheromones about him suddenly grew acrid with alarm, punctuated with a cloud of confusion. "Kill you? To turn mandible and claw upon kindred? What madness is this?"

Bewildered wouldn't do the state of her Kindred justice, many-eyes scanning the landscape as if her words would conjure such an attempt into being and claws restlessly flexed as if they'd soon be needed. Seeming to realize himself, however, he lowered his arms and regarded her carefully, cautiously, the scent of him beginning to bloom more boldly with hope-longing than before as he slowly approached. When he'd come within perhaps five feet of Cotesia, the kindred knelt once more and fixed his many-eyes upon her.

"... cousin." With one arm bracing himself against the muddy riverbank and two others folded over his abdomen, he offered the hand of the remaining arm to Cotesia. "May I prove my intent to you?"

Cotesia was simply too stunned to speak, briefly, recoiling slightly upon the sight of something all-too-familiar, rage already beginning to contort her face in a snarl before dropping unceremoniously where This One spoke to her in a tone of wariness as opposed to disdain and hatred.

She clacked her teeth together where once she’d tap the fangs of her maxilla, eyes narrowing.

A bead of sweat formed on her brow—how exactly to show what she was? She’d been so busy learning how to hide it that it didn’t occur to her she’d ever have to prove the opposite. Initially she figured she could entertain his question for a bid to buy time—time enough for a distraction of some sort so she could grab a sword, but This One’s tone… his confusion seemed to mirror her own. As yet, since her betrayal, every one of her Kin had forgone words and jumped straight to trying to kill her, so there was something different about This One that piqued her interest. Did he… not know?

“You hesitate, cousin, how unexpected…” she said, voice its well and true scratchy deep octave where she’d become accustomed to the falsely cheerful one, in so revealing a self-same nature of where caution and curiosity clashed. Still, she raised her chin—a bit imperious, but she typically did feel prideful among her kin—for having more self-respect than chasing the tail of a Goddess that hated them.

Even thinking about it made her face twitch.

“Appearing as such makes it easier to travel, to interact with the humans—outside of fighting, naturally, though even then there are perks...” she said, eyeing the empty sockets where sets of arms should have been, tilting her head-back-and-forth for the self-soothing sound of cartilage crackling. “I’d ask what you’re doing outside Caelid, cousin, for it seems such travels have taken a toll on you… I hope you didn’t come all this way to kill me.”

#rotten-pest #v. with malice and envy; we covet our mother’s blessing (elden ring.) #// meddles is So Fucking Confused and Alarmed XD #// going from 'you're not a bug' to 'you are but you're wearing a person suit??' to 'why would i kill you???' #// he's never been so lost in his entire life lmaooo

[necrophcge]

looking for trouble, and if I cannot find it I will create it!

indie, selective, nonprivate yellowfinger heysel from dks3 / crossover and oc friendly!

                   about + rules ♡    

#promo tag. #// MAY I PLEASE PRESENT TO YOU... MY BESTEST OF BUDDIES #// listen. listen. rarely do you find someone so talented in both writing and art as my dear friend bri #// she and heysel have been an absolute joy to know over the years and i sincerely hope you'll come to admire them as i have ^^

[necrophcge]

// meddles' voice, for those curious as to what he might sound like.

#ooc tag. #// giving this another go round for some of the new folks to experience rofl

[necrophcge]

NAME:

Lee

PRONOUNS:

he/him

MOST ACTIVE MUSE(S)?

// Meddles here is technically my most active, but I'm doing stuff behind the scenes for my lads Brom ( @of-forossa ), and Samuel Whist ( @fishermcn ) so I'll add them here too lmao.

RP PET PEEVES?

// Ah hell man, probably a lack of progression when it comes to replies? When I'm writing a thread with someone, I do what I can to make sure they have enough from my own to continue the story we're telling together. So getting a reply in return that doesn't move things forward puts me in kind of a bind y'know? Matching or similar length comes with that as well, though I don't expect folks to match me word for word so much as giving as good as they've gotten!

Communication is also key! I know that it can be uncomfortable or a bit daunting to try to chat with folks you haven't gotten to know all that well, but with threads being something we create together we really should be on the same page. Even just a little update or the like is preferable to total radio silence rofl.

EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS?

// Shoot, it's probably been about twelve, maybe thirteen years now? Been on here the whole time and have bounced around to a few different fandoms before more or less settling down into the soulsborne community.

FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT?

// I'm definitely an angst kinda guy, though usually in the sense that things are going down or conflict is brewing rather than interpersonal drama. I live for fight-writing and the tension that comes with lives being on the line. Fluff is usually reserved for one and done replies rather than threads because I feel it's more impactful thst way, while smut is... well. I'm getting better at it, but it's definitely my weakest writing of the bunch. That, and I admittedly can get a bit nervous posting it out here in the wild for everyone to see (////-\\\\)

PLOTS OR MEMES?

// Both! Plots and plotting are my preferred go-to for our muses to get to know each other and establish what their relationship will be like going ahead, while with memes I'll usually go ham on a single reply with the intent of further fleshing out what we've pieced together for our muses.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES?

// If you've known me on my other blogs you already know I tend to get long winded XD. Short replies never feel like I've said enough honestly, and by taking the time to get in depth with them I reckon it opens the door wider for potential interactions (memes) or it gives the other person more room to reply with (threads). Least amount I'll do is around two to three paragraphs.

TIME TO WRITE?

// I'd love to tell you folks that I'm a responsible, orderly guy who keeps a good sleep schedule and has a set time for writing. Unfortunately I'm little more than an animal who's as likely to bump out an ask or reply at 4:00 in the morning as I am to post something mid-afternoon. Ideally though... I prefer the evenings for it. More privacy, more time to gather my thoughts and less demands for me personally to have to address.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S)?

// I'm a firm believer in the notion that muns typically have something either in common with or identify strongly with their muses in some form or another, and I'm no exception. Meddles might be a conqueror, cruel and malicious, but struggling against a seemingly impossible task and not wanting to be alone in this world... yeah. Yeah, I can relate to that. It helps me put myself in their shoes and understand them better if there's something about them I identify with.

tagged by: @ferinehuntress (much obliged panda :D)

tagging: @yellowfingcr, @hexenjagd, @bcwblade, @rotten-pest, @izar-tarazed, and you!

#ooc tag. #// not me shamelessly plugging all the lads lmao #// but yeah! this was fun; good way of putting to words some of my processes ^^

[necrophcge]

And the shape of it was nothing if not familiar, for the creature that prowled forth from the line of trees was another Kindred of Rot... even if it's gait was strange compared to the skitter-crawl typical of their kind, more like that of a human's as its mandibles clicked together warily. So too did their appearances differ, for rather than the reddish-pink chitin shared by most, the plates that crept across its spindly frame were instead smeared near black and mottled with brown. Upon it was the scent of ash and sulphur, of smoke clinging thickly to its ragged cloak and flesh as it approached the river's bank a mere ten paces from where she herself lingered still. As it knelt, clawed digits reaching into the waters and several limbs moving in tandem to scrape clean what filth had gathered in-between the seams of its exoskeleton, the cloak shifted... and the absence of the many-feeler-legs became apparent, the flesh pockmarked and scarred from where once they must have been.

That silence that had bloomed with its arrival lingered as the kindred cleaned itself, the water's surface growing filmy as the debris came loose between prying claws and the liberal use of mandibles. More and more of its carapace cleared, yet the darker shades remained even after most of the volcanic residue had been washed away as it let out a low chitter, four pairs of claws flexing experimentally now that they'd been properly maintained. Its body language spoke plainly in their shared tongue, of satisfaction-relief and a weariness that seemed to ebb from it with each passing moment.

Then it spoke, and the pitch-black of his many-eyes fixed themselves onto her person. "Have you done something, human? I come expecting trace or touch of Kindred by their scent-taste on the air, by the Rot that whispers in their wake... yet find only you." His words are dual-toned, defined in a way perhaps only she could understand; confusion, wariness, suspicion, coiling together in his subharmonics and expressed in how tightly his mandibles have drawn against his face and in the tension drawn likewise taut within his crouched form. "Speak. I indulge you your continued life only for your answer, and I won't be kept waiting."

A meeting

@necrophcge If there was one thing she wished she’d learn more quickly, as that she was no longer in a position to assume relative safety.

But she did already understand that humans became off-put of someone overly dirty, or covered in blood and viscera, or otherwise foul smelling, and at the time that had taken more precedent over her usual precautions, so off she’d gone in search for water. Admittedly however she was reticent to enter once she found it. The shallow stream was calm, murmuring quietly. A bird overhead chirruped softly between moments of dipping down to grab flying insects that hovered over the waters edge. Her kind could not really swim, breathing through spiracles as they did—save the larva, who actually needed to be kept damp otherwise their gills would dry out. At least, such was as she understood, she hadn’t been given the duty of care of the young ones.

She sighed. No good reflecting on any of that. She removed her armor and set it aside, peeling off the outermost layers of her clothes to start washing, but hesitated again. She slid her feet in the water, recoiling briefly at the cold, but found it grew comfortable with time.

Cotesia ran her hand on the surface, peering through to the scattered rocks below. Fish darted away from her hand, but returned as soon as she stilled it. A little crayfish scuttled along the bottom.

The bird stopped singing suddenly. All grew quiet.

Cotesia picked her head up, heart began to beat faster—but she waited. Listened. Glanced where her swords were, maybe just one good leap away—but she couldn’t react, just yet.

She turned her head, slowly, so just the barest sliver of her peripheral vision caught the ominous shape behind her...

#rotten-pest #v. with malice and envy; we covet our mother’s blessing (elden ring.) #// meddles @ cotesia: hey so what the hell is this?? #// WOOO glad to get back to you on this buddy!

[necrophcge]

what tarot card are you?

the hermit.

it's a skill, to look inside yourself, one you have mastered. the endless corridors and shifting thoughts are mapped to very carefully. this all takes time, of course. and those twisting hallways are so very difficult to map. it would be so easy to get lost. you know this space so well. wouldn't it be a lovely place to stay? so well-known and comforting. why go back? how nice, how easy, to dissolve, to hide from the rest of the world and all the people in it. why bother, when you are so good at looking inside yourself. like enlightenment, the self retreating this far inwards is like retreating just as far out, into the vast ether. so comforting. the thing that was you looks at the thing that was the old woman. there is no you anymore. goodbye.

tagged by: @rotten-pest (much obliged! ^^)

tagging: @vulpesse, @ferinehuntress (for karlach), @faerunscursed (for isobel), and the person reading this who has just noticed every time they blink :y

#ooc tag. #dash games tag. #// y'know i tried this a couple of times and kept getting hermit #// and the more i think on it... yeah. #// surrounded by hundreds of your fellow necrophage but utterly alone despite it #// night after night after night for years spent scrabbling over the contours of your mind now utterly alien to you #// until you have examined every inch of this being (yes you are a someone now not something--) and understood that you are not as you were #// you will never claw out an existence as a beast again but are instead burdened with the awareness of all that you are #// and all that your kin can never be now. #// a hermit in his own home...

[necrophcge]

.

#ooc tag. #// thinking about things whilst at work and #// there's a line from a loyalist death guard on istvaan 3 #// from when the death guard and the other traitor legions unleashed hell upon those of their own men who would not betray the imperium #// “this is our death. we choose it. we deny you your victory” #// and i think of meddles and of the necrophage after his campaign ends in the canon of his game #// realizing there is no hope. their world will die in an endless winter and his species will never have a chance to become a civilization #// all they ever could be denied to them. more than mere weapons created to kill by precursors that they never knew #// and i think meddles wouldn't go quietly. that as the only one capable of grieving what they never could become he would rage for them. #// he would lead them against the other inhabitants of auriga in a final tide of tooth and claw and burn them into the history of the world #// and that would be their death. chosen by the only one of them capable of deciding his own fate.

[necrophcge]

// my attempts-schemes at conquering the world in the name of the great horned rat would succeed the moment i press-mash the horrific monster button with throt the unclean.

#ooc tag. #// yes hello i was swallowed whole by total war: warhammer 2 this whole weekend #// fun times abound! throt confirmed goofy silly guy with the worst case munchies #// hope you're keeping well folks #// replies soon incoming :yy

[necrophcge]

@faerunscursed

Hunting the children of the Absolute, those mind-broken and senses-bound beings slaving away to that which dwells in the Shadowlands, was quickly becoming a fixation of sorts for him. It'd begun as a curiosity, a fresh opportunity to further hone his stalking when they first began scuttling about in the Underdark. Drawn as he had been to the thrumming of their skulls and the writhing of their worms within them, it wasn't until his mandibles had sever their spines and his maw had gnashed the little thing that he'd understood just what they were harboring.

Magic. A potent shard of weave, raw untapped potential contained within such a small vessel further contained inside a fleshy shell. It had coursed through him as though lightning-struck, and the thrill of power was likewise accompanied by a hunger for more.

So it was then that He Who Meddles had gone from merely hunting to eradicating, a nameless and featureless terror that harried any that so much as carried a whisper of the tadpole upon their persons. Yet they roamed above just as they did below, those so called children of the Absolute, and it wasn't long before the allure of more plentiful prey drew him to Faerun's surface... and to the remains of a smoldering, smoking ruin of what must have been part of the nautiloid vessel's wreckage.

Letting out a low chittering, he tastes the air for any lingering scents, drawing the hood of his cloak further over his head to keep the daylight away. There was blood yet drying on the ground, yes, no doubt from the impact, and the sour tang of sweat and adrenaline fading from the air... whoever had emerged from this pod wasn't too far away it seemed. Though... another familiar scent rose above it all-- the rancid-ash-flame of the Hells? Something slick-boiling with it, that of smoldering oil and gears ground upon one another...

Disbelief? Is that the feeling buzzing about his head, making him seem a fool as he stands about the carnage? He buries it even as he clambers over the wreckage and begins following that hellish scent, unwilling to entertain the notion until his many-eyes can confirm such a thing for themselves. Something that doesn't take long at all, given the size of her and the smoldering of his mechanical heart.

"So, it is you." His abdomen twinges at the sight of her greataxe, remembering the feel of it biting through flesh and chitin scarcely a year or so ago. His hideous head cocks, mandibles click-clicking as his many-eyes rove over her form. Watching. Waiting. "You are a long way from Avernus, axe-fury."

#faeruncursed #v. with bloodshed and cruelty; we hunt the absolute’s children (bg3.) #// this took way too long to get to you but! we're live! #// meddles vc: i came looking for a meal and instead found a fade. joy.

[necrophcge]

Proper introductions are in order, yes? Yes.

Elden ring Pest character - Open - Non-selective - 18+

Information - Rules

#promo tag. #// YOOOO??? FELLOW PEST CONNOISSEUR???? #// looking forward to seeing you around! ^^

[necrophcge]

// not me building more edh decks whilst daydreaming of writing Bug™ at work

#ooc tag. #// tbd. #// i think little bro wouldn't hesitate to disintegrate me instantly for daring to build a simic deck #// howeeeeeeever... imoti cool snake lady and cascade goes woosh #// hope y'all have had a good time of it so far this week

[necrophcge]

// work's been putting me through the wringer with a new policy we have going on, so replies may be slowish during the week.

#ooc tag. #// hope y'all are keeping cool; already starting to heat up down here in georgia #// tbd.

[necrophcge]

// this will without a doubt be the worst thing i've ever posted, but on account of it being sinday here goes--

meddles is packing heat below the belt in all verses. call it a genetic quirk left over from his progenitor host, call it an insult to the eyes of god and the earth he has created, but there you have it. going into detail would probably kill me, so i'll just say he's probably slightly above average for my head's sake.

the necrophage tend to naturally salivate profusely when anticipating a meal; as the only member of his species with sapience, this expresses itself whenever he's gotten "excited." expect lots of natural lubricant as a result.

right, kissing. awful. imagine mandibles strong enough to crush a skull gently holding onto your cheeks while pediplaps fumble against your mouth. yeah, horrendous.

four arms, four hands with surprisingly dextrous fingers (and claws). i will not elaborate further.

of all the feelings, emotions, and thoughts meddles grapples with, attraction and/or affection are the ones buried the deepest. actually finding someone that interests him? somehow developing a relationship or attraction? yeah. two hundred years with change of pent-up abomination roaring to the forefront.

relatively low libido, but uh. when this object does go into motion? it stays in motion. for a while. a long while.

meddles is cold-blooded, so assuming you can even wrap your head around cuddling this thing he'll keep you cool i guess??

scent marking. there will be lots of preening, touching, and general personal-space infringement as meddles absolutely covers the object of his affections with pheremones.

marking. he bites. he claws. he's capable of being... gentle? but he will want anyone his partner encounters to know that They Belong To Him. in return, marking him will GREATLY please him.

usually dominant but not opposed to submitting if his partner is capable of being dominant. imagine rhino beetles fighting but instead it's for who's on bottom.

the webbing meddles can produce is an effectice binding for most beings. again, further elaboration is... no.

#nsfw tag. #ooc tag. #// i completely forgot it's easter today too my god #// forgive me lord for this unsightly post #// but yeah. bug's life can have sex even if he currently has never #// excuse me while i go read my bible to cleanse lmao

[necrophcge]

"A necessary condition, that. To be surrounded by those whose nature and face resemble yours yet remain little more than your lessers is the cost of dominion. Especially when an equal and a rival are indistinguishable." Loneliness. Yes, he supposes that is the word to best define that fang-sharp pain that blooms within his abdomen when dwelling on the distance a mind has created between himself and the rest of the hive. He batters down the wave of that feeling before it can seize him in its jaws, his own mandibles clicking dismissively with a whirring scoff. "Though what you are remains to be seen, Half-Beast."

Something less nauseating than isolation stirs from below in the face of Sett's confidence. It shall be, as if the single warrior before him could hope to weather the storm of claw and chitin that are the Necrophage if they were given the command to swarm. With the proof of his exploits etched into his flesh and with how unflinchingly he meets his gaze where so many have cowered before him, Sett draws a hunger from He Who Meddles not easily sated... and with it, the temptation to humble the challenge presented in word and action alike. Even now he can sense the many-eyes of his kindred that act as sentries and guards fixated on the half-vastayan; can feel the slightest stirrings of sand beneath both their feet as the drones tense in anticipation for the call to maim-kill the one standing before him.

He Who Meddles considers for a moment whether the simplest solution is to give that command and attempt to swallow Sett beneath the skittering tide of death... before casting aside the notion. Better to test his mettle personally rather than risk any of the hive.

"And hurtling yourself into certain death at the claws of my kin hardly benefits me." With a mental nudge the drones go back to their posts, the sands giving way to reveal their forms as they emerge on either sides of Sett and He Who Meddles. Turning from Sett with a parting clack of his mandibles, a clawed hand smooths over the hideous head of a drone before he gestures for him to follow with another. "If you hunger for battle, for further proof of your strength and for challenge unlike any you've faced before, then we will do so beneath the eyes of an audience. Your arrival has already drawn a crowd."

he had stepped upon the shifting sands that whispered tales of perseverance and determination, traversing the unforgiving landscape in pursuit of one goal: to face the strongest in the desert, to etch his name in the annals of legend, and to conquer what was rightfully his. the undulating dunes of shurima were unrelenting, the fury of the winds a war that had to be faced ⸻ the journey had been arduous, fraught with peril and tribulation [ ... ] but he was a full beast in heart, and had braved the tempestuous winds and scorching heat with unwavering determination. he knew that his reputation must precede him, that his name must be heard in every corner of the desert until it reached the ears of the father who had abandoned him.

and thus, with pride swelling in his chest and the fire of ambition burning bright in his aureate spheres, he stood before the leader of the kin, his posture erect and his gaze unwavering. ❝ seems solitary, your reign, @he-who-meddles. ❞ his jaw set in a firm line and his fists clenched at his sides, structure ready to unleash, his vastayan strength ready to be released. he had conquered lands far and wide, and vanquished foes with his skill on the battlefield. now, he stood ready to claim victory once more.

❝ i intend to challenge every single one of your kin, if that's what is needed. ❞ there was a barely-there smirk, the scars and wounds still fresh from past challenges. they were naught but trophies acquired in battle ⸻ his name, however, was the ultimate premium. he could still hear his name slipping through shattered mouths, ripped throats, breathless whispers. ❝ and if that means i must face you, then it shall be. ❞

#goldenfists #v. with cunning and patience; we seek dominion over the sea of sands (league of legends.) #// yooooo this is perfect!! was so happy to see your reply ^^ #// meddles acting as if sett didn't absolutely fry his ass with that off-handed lonely observation lmaooo

[necrophcge]

my tomfoolery, at last laid to rest...

"yes, my gaming pc and monitor have arrived! can't wait to boot up steam!" -> complete hooligan who's completely forgotten he needs a keyboard and mouse.

#ooc tag. #// at long last #// modded fallout new vegas is within my grasp #// on a less goofy note: happy friday! #// you've made it thus far; congrats on surviving the work week ^^ #// expect replies and asks over the next couple of days! #// tbd.