unsavourywords

[unsavourywords]

Sundas, 9th of Sun's Dusk, 4E201 

--

I arrived in Rorikstead. An angered farmer immediately walked up to me, demanding that I go and get back his prize-winning goat. I gave her to a Giant. To repay Ysolda, from Whiterun. I'm such a responsible drunkard, paying back what I owe people.

I brought back the goat just now, and now I'm headed for Whiterun. I need to know what I had to repay Ysolda for. All I wonder is how I got from Nightgate Inn to Whiterun, to Rorikstead, to Markath. In one night. Drunk. HOW? 

Reminder to self, the people in Rorikstead are quite polite and nice. Erik, the son from the barkeeper, hopes I'll come visit him again one day. Maybe I will, maybe I won't. He seemed alright.

13th of Sun's Dusk, 4E201

--

I MARRIED AN HAGRAVEN. I gave her a wedding ring; That's what I had to repay Ysolda for. When I asked her to give the ring back to me, she went nuts, rambling on about how she bet I was leaving her for some other Hagraven with blacker feathers. She was killed easily enough, but the traumatizing memory will stay forever..

To be honest, I'm not doing too well. The encounter with Moira left me with a mild fever, and I'm feeling terrible. I think I'll go lie down for a bit..

#journal

[unsavourywords]

.. It made him lower his bow, at least. He knew precisely what the kid was talking about, and he couldn't help but agree with the idea; After all, it was the exact same that he did. Except he didn't hide out in nature, he just hid in the Brotherhood's sanctuary. Even less talk of politics and Dragonborns. Just talk of murders, contracts and bloodstains on the floor. Much easier and less complicated.

"Alright, kid, y'win. Sounds likely 'nough." Was the only thing Alastor said, getting up from his crouched position, patting a hand on his clothing to 'dust it off'. 

"I just… Prefer the company of nature." He answered simply, knowing it sounded fairly bad in terms of being an excuse, but he couldn’t tell the other the real reason why he lingered out here. No, that would definitely make this much, much worse.

"The cities are filled with politics and talk of dragonborns and death, so, I prefer to be here, where it’s quiet. The only reason I’d been sneaking about was because I normally don’t see another person take this route."

#ic #thedeadarecoming

[unsavourywords]

 It wouldn't be such a waste to him, really. He'd gain the satisfaction of another kill, and he could just get the arrow back. And maybe he could hang up a nice story about the weapon having belonged to someone of great status in olden days, and get a nice price for it anyway. There was literally no reason for him to lower his weapon.

It was lowered a bit, but still not enough to no longer be a threat to the stranger, and Alastor could only snort. "Yeah, okay. Maybe. Why are ya hidin' in the forests, though? Not suspicious at all, oh no, truly not.."

Norman lowered the scythe immediately, but kept his caution high. Norman did not want to kill this man, and he hoped to make that apparent soon. If not, well, hopefully he could at least hide his body somewhere.

"I haven’t been to a town in days, and all that I have on me is this weapon, which," He held it up slightly to show it, before lowering it again. "by the look of things, is not your kind of weapon, and it won’t sell for much. The only thing you’d gain from killing me is some blood, and a wasted arrow."

"Now please, lower ya weapon."

#ic #thedeadarecoming

[unsavourywords]

#reflection in the water. #[ EXCUSE ME SIR BUT COULD YOU NOT BE SO HELLA CUTE ]

[unsavourywords]

"I'm going to set up a thousand bear traps 'round my tent t'night, jus' so I won't get damn company from nearly the entirety of Skyrim again."

#ic #[ aaa good night ]

[unsavourywords]

The moment Alastor saw a figure move from behind one of the trees just a little further up, he snaps his bow back up, the arrow pointed directly at their chest as the Nord can only narrow his eyes.

"You've already sung, bird. Maybe not in the traditional way, but still." He murmurs in reply, ignoring the request to lower his weapon. Ha. He'd heard the 'I'll do no harm!' excuse more than just a few times. The dark hood covering the guy's face and the weapon? Didn't make it much better. 

"Give me a reason to lower it and not just shoot ya in the chest, loot your dead body and continue on my way." 

The cold voice made Norman shudder, and he knew that, very soon, he would have to react. His mind raced for a moment, wondering what he should do to try and defend himself. Then again, if this man were a stranger…

Maybe he hadn’t heard of the event that took place.

Norman then took a deep breath, exhaled, and stood up, hand still clasping the tall weapon, as he stepped out from behind his hiding spot.

"I’m not a bird, so don’t expect any singing from me." He stated, a bit loudly, if only to get the other’s attention. "Though I do mean you no harm, so, if you could please lower your weapon—"

#ic #thedeadarecoming

[unsavourywords]

The moment they start moving, he stops, not trusting movement out of all things enough to keep on trying to pass by them. As a result, he's standing almost in front of the shortest, with arms folded in front of their chest. He glances at the stranger for a moment, letting eyes go from top to bottom to see if they'd be any trouble. Well, the fact they were so short already took off some points of the dangerous-list, but he was still acutely aware of the fact that the others were still around. And that was definitely putting some danger-points back on there. 

He wasn't going to attempt anything, not willing to put his head on the block. Instead, he stood there as well, staring back at the masked stranger, not even sure what he could expect to happen from here on out.

      They were silent, watching him approach. A glance through the group, and one by one… they left. Slowly, though glancing back every once and a while. Only one was left there, the shortest of the group, arms folded. However short and small compared to the others, the jackal masked woman shouldn’t be taken lightly. 

      Her own blade was smaller, curved, accompanied by another like it. She’d just.. stand there, as the others had left to hide in the shadows, to simply wait. Of course, if they were needed they’d waste no time in coming out and, well, killing him.         Still, she stood there, just.. stood there, waiting, w a t c h i n g.

#ic #unscrupuloushazelhues

[unsavourywords]

The arrow was now between his fingers and the bow's string was pulled tight, ready to fire the arrow if he saw the need. So far so good, but something didn't feel right, and it's what kept him stalking forward, bow in front of him as his eyes flitted from right to left.

"Ah, little bird, why don't you sing a bit and come out of hidin'?" He murmurs, singing the sentence as if it was a rhyme meant to be sung, a small smile forming on his face. That's when he stopped walking, instead remaining crouched behind a tree, the bow getting lowered just a tiny bit to allow him more room to see without it being in the way.

"I'll do lil' birds no harm."

Oh, oh damn, okay, Norman quickly thought. He could hear the other’s footsteps, despite their lightness, and he immediately tried to think of a way to distract him. Maybe he could— no, no that might get him killed, he realized, and decided to push the idea away. Instead, he simply pulled up the back of his dark hood, letting the cloth cover his face, hoping that, with the dark clothing he wore, he may blend in to the shade of the darkness.

Nonetheless, he kept a tight grip to his scythe, still tilting it frontward, as to not appear obvious behind the thick trunk of the tree.

One hand softly glowed a shade of purple beside him, ready to react with that earlier idea if needed be.

#ic #thedeadarecoming

[unsavourywords]

Watching a bunch of masked faces turn to him at the same time was enough to make him release an internal waterfall of curse words; The one time he leaves Cicero and Inigo at home and leaves the safety of the Brotherhood's sanctuary, and this happens. Lady Luck definitely did not like him, at all. 

Regardless, he doesn't stop walking, intent on reaching his goal without getting murdered on the road there; But man, he does grip the hilt of his sword even tighter, hoping to just pass by them with little more happening then them just staring at him.

Lady Luck won't allow that to happen, though, now will she?

      It isn’t rare for the thieves to be in this area, in fact to them they owned it, if anything. A band of eight in total, all varying in specialties and personality; though there were a few things they did have in common. Merciless intent, a sick sense of pleasure from killing, and of course, masks. They wouldn’t let people know their identity too easily, after all. Each one made of bone, carved and painted markings.

      At first, they hadn’t noticed the other, until one of them gave a small twitch of their hand, caught by another, soon all masks turned towards the man.

          They could have some fun, maybe?

#ic #unscrupuloushazelhues #[ PURRS ] #[ suppppp friend [

[unsavourywords]

[ and this, my friends, is how alastor draws n writes.

aka absolutely horrid ]

#outofgraves

[unsavourywords]

unscrupuloushazelhues 

He's so used to staying holed up in the Sanctuary, that he's no longer used to all these people out there. Most people were welcome presences, though, as long as they left him alone and let him go on his merry way; But this one didn't feel nice at all. As a result, he almost instantly had a hand upon the hilt of his sword the moment he saw the figure a little further ahead, narrowing his eyes dangerously. 

Please, oh please, just leave him alone and let him pass--

#ic #unscrupuloushazelhues #[ oops hello friend 8') ]

[unsavourywords]

He hadn't taken much notice of the shuffling in the collection of trees to the sides of the road, and had kept on walking at the same pace he'd been the entire way through.

Well, up until he heard the loud snap, of course. He stopped walking straight away, coming to a stop so fast he nearly would've fallen over had he not been too focused on figuring out where in Sithis' name it had come from, and what had made it.

His hand made it's way to his back, his fingertips brushing over the wood of his bow, but not grabbing it just yet; Maybe it was just a fox or a rabbit. But it could so, so easily be something far more threatening than that, and that mentality made Alastor crouch down, low to the ground, and slowly creeping off the path and closer to the trees, pulling an arrow from his quiver. 

He noticed the new presence immediately, but didn’t say anything. No, no it was best not to say anything to strangers like him, people who appeared to have an aura about them that only glowed dimly with dark intentions and ill actions. No, he kept close to the trees, hiding within their shade, just to see what this new face would have in store. Hopefully, he would just be like the other’s, wandering to an already predetermined path, ignoring of the shuffling in the woods, shrugging it off as the sound of a deer.

He kept his weapon close, hands always curled around the smooth, dark oak of the handle, while he tilted his hand to keep the long, curved blade at the top to be out of sight.

He then accidentally stepped on a twig, the sharp crack filling the silence, and he immediately jolted behind his tree, hoping the other wouldn’t take suspicion. 

Please, please don’t take suspicion. 

#ic #thedeadarecoming #[ AY YYY 8) ]

[unsavourywords]

"No." Alastor deadpanned, the names not ringing any kind of bells. Granted, he'd never been a man that knew the map of the entirety of Tamriel out of his head, but he was still pretty damn sure there was no place called .. Jepen, or Tokno, or Azabu-something. 

His curiousity was getting too large to send the boy off again, and he quietly shuffled more out of the tent, eventually getting up on his feet, the sword still in his hands. His grip had loosened, yes, but that didn't mean he still fully trusted the guy enough to put it back in it's scabbard. "Where does that lie, precisely? 'Cause I've never heard of it. Doubt anyone you're gonna ask 'round here will know either." 

”..Sorry, Alastor.” Seto decided he would turn around, maybe retracing his footsteps would do it. Somehow get him back there..even if he fell into the cellar place again, at least he would know where he was. But he was questioned before this plan, once more.

”..Ah, I’m from Japan, in Tokyo. I lived in an Observatory with my Grandpa..uhm, I guess it was sort of near Azabudai. Does that help?”

#ic #truthofthewords

[unsavourywords]

Hemlock grove (2013)

#reflection in the water. #landon liboiron #[ he's scarily attractive. even when theres blood on his hands ]

[unsavourywords]

thedeadarecoming

He's been on the road for far too long, now. He'd left when the sun had just risen above the mountains surrounding Markarth, and now the sun was already setting and he still wasn't anywhere near Rorikstead. He figured he must've taken a wrong turn somewhere, because there was no way that he could've wasted this much time while walking at quite the brisk pace. Either that, or he was just awful at walking places while still suffering from a hangover of a damn drinking contest. This contest and the staff he'd been promised were were causing him more stress than was probably worth it.

He was half-tempted to set up the tent at the side of the road, knowing that the nights were cold and lethal, but yet he kept walking on, trying to make as much progress as he could before the sunlight would die out completely.

#ic #thedeadarecoming

[unsavourywords]

A moment of silence passes, the ravenette seemingly thinking of the question, before shaking his head once more. "No, I didn't. No one passed by here but you. You're the only one whom I've seen in an entire hour. Go look for him somewhere else instead of bothering me." He replies, voice holding an annoyed, yet curious undertone to it as he let his eyes fall on the stranger once more-- No, not stranger, Seto. 

Just as strange of a name as the guy's looks.

"Say, before ya get outta here.. Where're you from? Y'don't look like anyone I've ever seen before." 

Oh, right. Seto lowered his flashlight to the ground after getting a look at the guy, feeling bad for shining the light right in his face. He sounded so defensive about his name, but Seto accepted that without a second thought. “Seto.” He said. “My name is Seto..nice to meet you.” Though he couldn’t say if that felt really true or not at the moment.

"Surely it has to be nearby, I was just-" He paused. "Maybe you’ve seen someone with a black crow decoration on his shoulder pass through here? Wears a lot of colors?"

#ic #truthofthewords

[unsavourywords]

The Nord narrowed his eyes at the sudden light infiltrating his sight, a sneer on his face as he felt his pupils shrink. He held up a hand to block the light, before shaking his head at the stranger. ".. Can't help ya there, son." He murmured at first, stopping to wonder at what the hell 'theme park' meant. Foreigner? Someone from another province? Who knew. 

All he knew is that the kid looked odd, and definitely not from around here. ".. Uh. I guess y'can call me Alastor. That's all you're gettin', though. Who are you?" 

He turned back, his flashlight landing on the stranger in behind him, a man who seemed much different than the people Seto had met in the past. He was unsure of a reply, but managed one somehow. “I just want..to get back to the theme park area..I’ve gotten lost somehow between there and here.”

Seto attempted a small smile. “But..who are you?”

#ic #truthofthewords