huntersrequiem-if

[huntersrequiem-if]

Oh hey, thanks for the mention!

last song: Setting Sun by Lord Huron

currently watching: Steven Universe and Archive 81 (no second season why Netflix)

three ships: lame answer, but nothing comes to mind. Maybe Hiccstrid? Oh and Symbrock.

favorite color: red, mostly dark red!

consuming: Rice and curry

first ship: no idea, but I'm gonna say tentatively Hiccstrid.

place of birth: Romania

current location: same as before

relationship: single

last movie: Nimona! It just sticks in my mind.

currently working on: a fight scene.

Tagging: @wanted-game-if (hi! no pressure or anything, but I thought your game looked cool!)

Tag people you want to know better

I thought it would be fun if I did this, especially since I haven't posted an update about ATOL (sorry about that btw, been busy but I am very much working on! Fixing and adding themes, you know?) and so consider this a little update to what I have been doing lately 😊 indirectly tagged by @saharasdawn

last song: Madeleine by Good Kid (just Good Kid songs in general lol they're so good)

currently watching: youtube 😂 and Skate Into Love (cdrama)

three ships: completely random. but. Sonaze. Lukerosa. Sokeefe. Just look them up and you'll find out 😐

favorite color: Blue! 💙

currently consuming: an amalgamation of chicken, beans, rice, and unknown spicy sauce.

first ship: Sonaze. I'm so embarrassed by it, but yeah...I remember the fanfics I looked up so vividly

place of birth: America.

current location: ...your closet home.

relationship status: ...we don't talk about it.

last movie: The Lion King, animated version of course. Nearly cried at the end, the nostalgiaa 😭

currently working on: writing, editing and fixing my games, as well as brainstorming new ideas but never following through on them (maybe you'll see one of them come up soon? or maybe not lmao my brain is a chaotic mess).

tagging my guardian spirit @albywritesfiction as well as @elegantunknownphantom, @theomisu, @iridescentcorvid, @aevisreads, @friend-frog and @emysjourney (for some reason the link doesn't pop up, hope you see this Emy 🥺). And also tagging anyone who sees this!

#ask game #tag game #owl hooting

[huntersrequiem-if]

What do the ROs sound like in terms of voice, accent, etc

Astaroth: Silky and smooth. Honey drips over his cruel words. His tone is confident, sharp.

Moon: Lifting, melodious. Her words have a sing-song quality to them, a playful edge.

Night: Low, nearly a whisper with a raspy edge. Their words are monotone, but you can catch a hint of melancholy that passes just as fast.

Santana: Warm, melodious voice. They talk a bit too fast, often saying the first thing that comes to mind.

???: Low, husky voice. Their words are simple and to the point.

#owl hooting #hunter's requiem if #interactive fiction #birds chirping #hr: astaroth #hr: night #hr: ??? #hr: moon #hr: santana

[huntersrequiem-if]

ROs MBTI types? Thank you!!

Hello there! Here are the ROs MBTI, but remember those are just approximations!

Astaroth: ENTJ 

Moon: ENFJ 

Night: ISTJ

Santana: INFJ

???: ISFP ENTJ

#owl hooting #hunter's requiem if #birds chirping #interactive fiction #hr: astaroth #hr: night #hr: moon #hr: santana #hr: ???

[huntersrequiem-if]

The city is bustling, crawling with activity. Sounds upon sounds, voices competing with each other. A thousand of different scents, mortals, food.

 Thousands of feet scurrying towards their destination.

Hell, if you concentrate you can even hear the voices of the merchants in the marketplace rising over each other.

 So different from your forest, your beloved Wyldewood. It has noises, but they are familiar, soothing. Like leaves ruffling in the breeze, joyful birdsong dancing along the plains.

The babbling of the rivers traveling through the forest.

The squelch of a beast ripping its prey apart, blood dripping down its fangs.

You are shaken out of your stupor when a stranger bumps into you, roughly. You growl at them, barely stopping yourself from baring your fangs at them.

They give you a rude gesture, as they continue onwards with an uneven gait.

With a sound of discontent, you drag your hood deeper over your face. Until you are hidden in its shadow, barely two faintly shining eyes.

How embarrassing of you, to be so caught up in your thoughts.

 Right, this alley can no longer shield you. At the mouth of it lies an ever-flowing sea of mortals.

You were waiting for just the right moment to break in. But it seems like it is never coming.

Keeping a hand holding the hood still, you make your way. Shoving some, sidestepping others.

You continue until you are amidst the heart of the crowd. Follow its flow.

Ignoring the way your head is pounding from the cacophony of noises and smells. The voice of the crowd like the angry buzzing of a wasp hive.

Your claws twitch.

At least your eyes are working fine. You search for a glimpse of warm tawny skin, a shock of blonde hair glowing in the sunlight.

Nothing.

...wait. You stop in your tracks. The flow staggers, pushing into your form. The humans curse you as they avoid your prone form. Some ask if you are alright.

You ignore the ceaseless buzzing, focusing on the sweet scent. It reminds you of a summer day.

Warm sunlight on your skin, the sweet aroma of flowers.

 Your teeth sinking into soft skin. Their pulse like the erratic heart of a deer. Their little whimpers, a delight to your ears.

You bound towards it. The other mortals stop if they don't want to be plowed. Others are too oblivious to that.

It guides you in deserted alleyways, busy streets. You dodge and wave between the humans. Until.... there they are. In a less populated corner of the market, they lean against a stone building.

Santana.

The very picture of relaxation. But you know them better. Crossed arms, staring into the moving streets. The subtle tension of their shoulders. The slow taping of their foot.

Dressed in plain clothes, a white tunic and dark brown pants. They might look like a commoner. They are so much more.

Soft tawny skin, tiny freckles much more evident in the sun. Long golden blonde hair, in a messy braid. The wayward strands perfectly framing their face.  Long lashes hiding deep blue eyes.

They haven’t noticed you yet, of course they haven’t. As much as you would like to stay here hidden in the shadows and admire them, you can’t keep them waiting.

Your steps are silent, noiseless. Forty steps away, they tug at their braid. Thirty steps away, they glance at the stalls on the other side of the street. Their foot quickens its pace, each tap producing a small noise.

Fifteen steps away, they lean their head on the wall, closing their eyes.

You wonder how close you will get before they notice you.

Ten steps away. They’re absorbed in their world.

Five steps away.

Extending a hand, only for it to be slapped away when they twirl. Their other hand goes to their belt, grabbing thin air.

Blinking owlishly, they stare at you for a long moment – before their face takes a regretful look. Their eyebrows furrow. “Oh shit. I’m sorry, I got surprised.” A small smile follows. “Can I help you with something?”

It is easier this way, to ignore the bustle of the city. Just focus on their melodious words. Focus on their smell, wildflowers. Their heartbeat, how it had gone from a harried pace to a steady one.

Ignore the stomping feet.

They squint at you, trying to see under your hood. You help them, raising it slightly. Their eyes widen. “…you came?” Their face brightens up, though there is an unsure shine in their eyes, the small twitch of their brows. “I wasn’t sure you would do that.”

You blink, tilting your head. Why would they think that? “You wanted me here.”

They glance away, a small smile on their lips. Clearing their throat, they refocus on you. “I hope the line wasn’t too long.”

You frown. “What line?”

Blinking, their eyes dance between you and the crowd. “The entrance line..?” Their voice is laced with uncertainly, they speak like they’re trying to jog your memory. “The one you have to use to enter the city?”

Oh.

“How did you get here then?”

“I scaled the wall. Of course.” You shrug. It seemed like the easiest way.

They stare at you, wide-eyed. Their mouth, agape – closes and opens like a dying prey. No words come from them. “You did what?!” The words come sharp, piercing your ears.

The other passerby give them a strange look. Santana responds with an embarrassed smile, lowering their voice to a murmur. “What if someone saw you?” They glance around.

You scoff, crossing your arms. “And who could have seen me?” The mere notion laughable. From up the walls, the mortals resembled ants. Glancing at them, as they pass you by – well, you don’t see changing your opinion anytime soon.

Wait. Their heartbeat quickened. Glancing at them, you find them worrying their lip, eyes darting around. Oh, shit, they’re agitated.

You take a breath. Mellow your voice once it comes out like a soothing whisper. Open hands. You approach them, this time trying to make sounds.

Not like you are stalking your prey. No, no. You’re only trying to help a wounded deer.

When you are right in front of them you move your hands near their shoulder. Not touching. They’re already skittish enough. One wrong move and they might bolt.

“Hey, hey. Santana. Look at me,” their eyes dart to your face. You’re not sure what they see - a beast with sharp fangs and glowing eyes? A concerned smile? Whatever they see, it works because their eyes stay glued on yours. “No one saw me. I was very careful.”

They nod, slowly and then with more force. “Yes, yes. You might be right.” A soft sigh exhaled through their lips, they gave you a small smile. A hand gently tugs at their braid. “I suppose I’m just nervous.” The smile wobbles, just the tiniest bit. “I haven’t done this before. Lovers’ Day, I mean.”

You give them one last sweep, stepping back. Their heart is calm again.

Still, their choice of words gives you pause. Haven’t done it before? You open your mouth, ready to – what do you mean? We did it countless times before. Looking into their eyes, glance away. Right, not that Santana. Not yours. You close your mouth.

They caught that. Something in their face changes, is more taut.

A charged moment passes, you ‘admiring’ the market, and they looking at your profile.

The stalls are brightly colored, with a multitude of things for sale. Some you know – pelts, fresh meat. Some you don’t know – silk, gems. All have little symbols, little figurines of the stallkeeper’s chosen deity. Nothing for you, of course not.

They clear their throat, your eyes dragged back to them. “When was the last time you were here?”

Much has changed, that’s for certain. When you were up to the walls you had a change to see the layout of the city. It expanded.

You shrug. “A few centuries at least. It changed.”

Their expression withers, glancing down. “Right. It must been a sight to behold.”

You tilt your head. What have you said now? Why are they upset?

You don’t like seeing them like this. Your tongue licks over your fangs as you think. Ah, something to do might cheer them up. You clear your throat. “Truthfully, I…,” prefer is too strong a word, not with all this damnable noise, “like it more now. It is prettier.” It doesn’t feel satisfactory, but it made them look at you. “You could give me a tour. Show me all the new things added this century.” You try to smile.

They perk up. A hesitant nod follows and they step forwards. They show you their favorite stalls, their favorite places to get food. And to their credit, the scent is enough to make your mouth salivate.

It would been perfect really. If only this damned city would just shut up. It makes your teeth ache, your hands twinging. One swipe and you could shut them up. The humans who bump into you. Into Santana.

The last straw was when someone stepped on Santana’s  foot with enough force to make them yelp.

You growl, lunging toward the human, grabbing them by the collar. Your claws slice through the thin fabric as you bare your teeth towards the fool.

You might’ve taken a bite of them too, if desperate hands didn’t drag you away. Initially you tensed up, ready to destroy the idiot who dared grab you. Still, you relaxed and let yourself dragged away when you recognized Santana’s warm palms.

They have a vice grip on your forearm, hastily retreating from the whispering crowd. Running from shame…?

A dark alley appears soon. They throw the two of you towards it. Their hurried steps slow down only when they reach a dead end.

With a sight, they release your arm and learn on the cool wall. They slide down it, meeting the hard ground.

You do the same. You rub your face. How stupid of you, to get so carried away.

Your ears pick up their heart galloping in their chest.

A few moments, minutes pass. It slows down.

“Did this happen often?” You glance at them, finding them with looking heavenwards.  “With the original me, I mean.” A gulp. “Or former me?” They give a weak laugh, devoid of any joy. “What would they done in my place?”

#owl hooting #hunter's requiem if #interactive fiction #valentines day snippet #beware this is long! #it just ran away from me... #hr: santana #hope you guys like it!

[huntersrequiem-if]

"I would kill for you. I would die for you" would you take a break for me? Would you sit down and rest? For a day, a week, a year? Would you let others take care of your needs for me? Would you let yourself be held for me? By me?

#damn #huh this applies to multiple characters. #owl hooting #but for real #do take care of yourselves #please

[huntersrequiem-if]

Alright! The people have spoken! Most of you would like some snippets, so Santana is up next!

#owl hooting

[huntersrequiem-if]

#inspiration #hr: wyldewood

[huntersrequiem-if]

Facing off with Dudu

English added by me :)

#not related to the game #but it's just so cute #owl hooting

[huntersrequiem-if]

#inspiration #hr: wyldewood

[huntersrequiem-if]

The Crow Beneath the Ancient Arch

Hey I should probably actually post here more, huh??

#inspiration

[huntersrequiem-if]

Autumnal

#inspiration

[huntersrequiem-if]

Elie Saab Fall 2023 Couture

#inspiration

[huntersrequiem-if]

{Aracelis Girmay, from "This Morning the Small Bird Brought a Message from the Other Side," Kingdom Animalia (BOA Editions, Ltd., 2011) / Sylvia Plath, from a letter to Ruth Tiffanny Beuscher written c. July 1962}

#hr: night

[huntersrequiem-if]

He stands beside you, clothed in rich silk, vibrant colors that take away from his pale gray skin. His hand is cold in yours, yet the skin is smooth with no callouses. His claws rest delicately on the back of your hand, little pinpricks.

With a large grin and a grand gesture, he shows you a massive table. Candlelight bathes the crimson tablecloth in a warm glow. On it is a magnificent feast, with all dishes known to man and gods. Two plush chairs await you.

Yet, the table sits suspended in a dark abyss.

His grin falters - noticing where your attention went. The dark abyss slowly changes to a grand room, details washing over the inkiness like paint. As the details materialize, it befits the bedroom of a king, all grand details and architecture.

Astaroth glances at you under his eyelashes reading your reaction. “Is this not to your liking?” He guides you towards the table, squeezing your hand.

You shake your head, smiling. “It is a tad too grand for me, dear.”

He turns towards you, tilts his head, and then gives you a theatrical bow. As he plants a soft kiss on the pulse on your wrist, his words are little whispers. 'Tell me what you desire, my heart,' he says, his lips brushing against your pulse point.

Out of the corner of your eyes, the landscape flickers rapidly through different forms – until it finally settles on your forest.

“I thought you hated this.”

Rising, he put an arm around your hips, pulling until you’re flush against his form. “Oh, I do.” His other hand is at the nape of your neck. “They’re dreadful things,” he smirked, sharp, “but I can brave a few bugs if it means seeing you smile.” His smirk softened, a warm smile replacing it.

His kiss is gentle, slow, with just a hint of teeth. Your fingers tangle in his silky hair as you draw him closer.

It ends far too soon. Resting his head on your shoulder, he murmurs against your skin. “But I’m keeping the table.”

#valentines day snippet #snippet #hunter's requiem if #hr: astaroth

[huntersrequiem-if]

Little poll

Sooo, today is Valentine's Day [or yesterday for me], and I was wondering if you guys would like something special?

#owl hooting #hunter's requiem if #interactive fiction #i just think it would be interesting #even tho they might end up a little late lol #i already have one for Astaroth locked and loaded

[huntersrequiem-if]

#noooo #that's so hauntingly tragic

[huntersrequiem-if]

You take it, still warm. The blood trails down between your fingers, down your forearm. Cradling it you admire it as it continues to march on, undeterred. As long as it's still beating, the Mistborn will live.

You crush it.

I'm shamelessly stealing this from twitter, but writers !! Quick, reblog with the last line or two that you wrote, no cheating.

#owl hooting #sneak peek #tw blood #blood tw