#◜ response. ╱ ゜・ 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇬🇴🇩 🇮🇸 🇳🇴🇹 🇸🇴 🇲🇪🇷🇨🇮🇫🇺🇱. ・゜ ◝

[wclrider]

“it hurts.”

prompt.   ( accepting )

𝙰   𝙲𝚄𝚁𝚂𝙾𝚁𝚈   𝙶𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴   𝚃𝙾   𝙾𝙵𝙵𝙴𝚁   𝙷𝙾𝙿𝙴,   something   new   he   finds   himself   doing.   something   human.   it   would   stand   to   reason   then   that   such   a   kindness   would   be   borne   of   the   human   he's   found   himself   bound   to.   however,   he   is   busy   and   the   Walrider   is   running   out   of   patience   for   this   militia   that   stands   against   him.

❝   𝙸   𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆.   ❞

and   he   is   that   of   some   weary   god,   worn   thin   by   the   suffering   of   his   devoted.   𝙱𝙴𝙲𝙰𝚄𝚂𝙴   𝙾𝙵   𝙲𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂𝙴   𝙷𝙴   𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳   𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆.   of   course   the   swarm   would   know   the   ichor   that   seeps   from   waylon   as   he   lays   languid,   bleeding   out   upon   the   floor   like   some   kind   of   gutted   lamb.   they   used   to   stick   them   for   him,   an   offering   of   sorts,   to   soak   his   mountain   in   their   gore.   relished   in   it,   fed   upon   it.   but   now   things   are   different.   𝙷𝙴   𝙸𝚂   𝙳𝙸𝙵𝙵𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃.   looms   o'er   him   and   sees   that   doe   eyed,   vacant   and   rather   pathetic   stare   and   feels   no   vitality   from   it   as   he   had   before   with   the   other   lambs   to   the   slaughter.

𝙺𝙴𝙴𝙿   𝚆𝙰𝚈𝙻𝙾𝙽   𝚂𝙰𝙵𝙴.     that   is   what   he   was   supposed   to   do.   they   were   a   team,   after   all.   is   only   thankful   that   waylon's   family   was   not   here   to   witness   him   in   any   more   agony   than   the   glances   they   have   caught   after   the   initial   fray   he   suffered.   like   a   rabbit   in   a   snag,   he   had   seen   him   before.   terrified,   fragile,   wounded.   furthermore,   Miles   would   certainly   be   quite   cross   with   the   Walrider   should   he   fail   at   such   a   simple   task.

𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽𝚂   𝙰𝚆𝙰𝚈   𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃   𝙰𝚂   𝚀𝚄𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝚈,   the   static   grows   with   his   wrath.   his   intentions   are   made   clear.

❝   𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙳   𝙵𝙰𝚂𝚃.   𝙸   𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻   𝙽𝙾𝚃   𝙱𝙴   𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙶.   ❞

𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶   𝙰𝙺𝙸𝙽   𝚃𝙾   𝙰   𝚁𝙾𝙰𝚁   𝚂𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳𝚂,   shakes   the   ground   as   his   own   sort   of   decree.   without   words.   without   language   that   one   could   understand.   it   was   the   tongue   of   beasts.   of   old   gods   and   the   fear   that   waits   in   the   dark.   it   was   violence,   and   a   proclamation   of   their   end.   tears   them   apart   with   ease,   enjoyment   even.   he   may   not   have   craved   to   the   flesh   of   the   lamb   beneath   his   protection   but   he   did   relish   in   the   cries   of   the   beasts   that   had   struck   it   down.   just   as   doe   eyed   and   vacant   as   any   other   animal.   when   the   screaming   had   stopped   he   is   close   once   more.   no   rage   evident   in   his   tone   or   movement   as   he   examines   Waylon.

❝   𝙱𝙴   𝙽𝙾𝚃   𝙰𝙵𝚁𝙰𝙸𝙳,   𝙰𝙽𝙳...   𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙳   𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙻.   ❞

𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳𝚂   𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳   𝙱𝙴   𝚂𝙾𝙾𝙽   𝚃𝙾   𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙻   𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁,   his   nanites   making   quick   work   of   it   as   he   passes   a   hand   over   them   as   though   they   were   nothing.   it   was   not   often   he   got   the   opportunity   to   speak   directly   to   Park,   often   conversing   with   Miles   and   allowing   the   two   mortals   to   quarrel   and   plan   as   they   may.   though   it   was   never   out   of   distain   for   him,   but   rather   a   lack   of   understanding.   something   cold.   he   simply   saw   no   reason   for   it   was   all,   not   until   now.

❝   𝚈𝙾𝚄   𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻   𝚂𝚄𝚁𝚅𝙸𝚅𝙴,   𝙿𝙰𝚁𝙺.   𝚁𝙸𝚂𝙴.   ❞

𝙰   𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃   𝙾𝙵   𝚂𝙾𝚁𝚃𝚂,   some   things   never   change...

#ourgh walrider my beloved i have missed writing He #◜ response. ╱ ゜・ 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇬🇴🇩 🇮🇸 🇳🇴🇹 🇸🇴 🇲🇪🇷🇨🇮🇫🇺🇱. ・゜ ◝ #◜ inquiries. ╱ ゜・ 🇮🇹 🇭🇪🇦🇷🇸 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇸🇹🇦🇹🇮🇨 🇵🇷🇦🇾🇪🇷🇸. ・゜ ◝

[wclrider]

❝   𝚈𝙾𝚄   𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙰𝙺   𝙸𝙻𝙻   𝙾𝙵   𝙼𝙴   𝙰𝙽𝙳   𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙶𝙴𝚃   𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃   𝙸   𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴   𝙶𝙸𝚅𝙴𝙽   𝚈𝙾𝚄.   ❞

#I'm so sorry #walrider rlly traumatized miles & was like : this is a great honor for you wtf #◜ response. ╱ ゜・ 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇬🇴🇩 🇮🇸 🇳🇴🇹 🇸🇴 🇲🇪🇷🇨🇮🇫🇺🇱. ・゜ ◝ #◜ dash comm. ╱ ゜・ 🇼🇦🇹🇨🇭🇮🇳🇬 🇼🇮🇹🇭 🇴🇷🇬🇦🇳🇸 🇾🇴🇺 🇨🇦🇳·🇹 🇮🇲🇦🇬🇮🇳🇪. ・゜ ◝ #walriding

[wclrider]

Places beanie on his head. It's getting cold out.

𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙻𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂   𝙾𝙵   𝙷𝙸𝚂   𝚂𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙼   .   .   .   quelled   only   by   the   gesture   of   those   hands   upon   him   again.   although,   jarring   for   a   moment,   the   nanites   hold   tight   against   it   for   a   stable   form.   welcoming   of   the   warmth   spilled   over   and   over,   the   feedback   loop   of   his   touch   as   the   cloth   is   placed   upon   him.   there   was   no   particle   or   nanite   within   the   evermoving   swath   that   did   not   know   his   other   :   𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚡   !   𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚡   !   𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚡   !

❝   .   .   .   𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙺   𝚈𝙾𝚄 ,   𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚁 .   ❞

𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙵𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶   𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴𝚁 ,   intrigue   blooms   in   the   creature.   paled,   frigid,   digits   brush   along   jawline.   quietly   met   inquiry   that   lacks   vocalization   but   felt   all   the   same   in   kind.   a   hissing   purr   rupturing   the   near   silence   before . . .

❝   𝙲𝙾𝙻𝙳 ,   𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 ?   ❞

#◜ response. ╱ ゜・ 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇬🇴🇩 🇮🇸 🇳🇴🇹 🇸🇴 🇲🇪🇷🇨🇮🇫🇺🇱. ・゜ ◝ #◜ inquiries. ╱ ゜・ 🇮🇹 🇭🇪🇦🇷🇸 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇸🇹🇦🇹🇮🇨 🇵🇷🇦🇾🇪🇷🇸. ・゜ ◝ #hE WUVS HIM HE WUVS HIM HE W

[wclrider]

“  you  deserve  more  than  i  can  give  you.  ”

prompt.  ( open )

𝙰𝙽𝙳   𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃   𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂   𝙷𝙴   𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶   𝚃𝙾   𝙷𝙸𝚂   𝙳𝙾𝙾𝚁   𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷   𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚂𝙴   𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳𝚂...   but   the   loving   touch   of   another   who   knows   him   well.   a   quick   snap   of   the   creature’s   attention   as   he   utters   something   so   horrendously   untrue.   fallacy   from   those   lips   ne’er   suited   someone   with   a   gaze   like   honey   and   the   warm   boozed   laughter   of   a   love   unspoken.   it   slips   closer   with   such   ease,   so   swift   in   its   movements   and   yet   ne’er   anything   else   outside   of   tender   as   he   touches   his   skin.   would   seldom   worry   his   flesh   with   those   hands   and   split   maw   like   a   dying   star,   if   only   he   would   ask.   silences   him   with   a   kiss   upon   his   lips   as   he   holds   his   jaw   steady,   gently.   then   another,   another   still.   and   o’   how   he   hungers   always   to   feel   the   flood   of   relief   in   his   lover’s   bones,   felt   his   sorrow   like   it   was   his   own   to   wear   some   days   and   wished   with   all   his   might   that   he   may   labor   away   at   crafting   a   life   to   let   him   be   as   happy   as   he   could be.  

𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙻   𝚃𝙾𝙾   𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷,   𝙳𝙸𝙳   𝙷𝚄𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚂   𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴   𝚂𝚄𝙲𝙷   𝙳𝙰𝚈𝚂...   and   he   would   ne’er   blame   him.   never   fault   him   for   being   so   very   human,   passionate,   loving,   worried.   but   simply   spends   his   time   toiling   over   caring   for   him   in   any   way   he   can.   nanites   flood   o’er   him,   like   smoke   snuffed   out   for   the   lovers   who   swept   away   to   bed   in   the   folds   of   his   mountains.   rolls   and   rolls   over   his   edges   and   peaks,   flits   beneath   skin   to   continue   a   journey   of   adoring   him   down   to   bone   with   a   simple   utterance   upon   his   tongue.

❝   𝙱𝙴   𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙻...   ❞

𝙵𝙸𝚁𝙼   𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙴   𝙷𝙸𝚂   𝚅𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴   𝙱𝚄𝚃   𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁   𝚆𝙰𝚂   𝚃𝙾𝙽𝙴...   and   who   better   to   determine   what   the   old   mountain   god   deserves   than   he   himself.   to   speak   the   truth   from   the   countenance   and   feed   to   his   lover   the   words   he   need   to   hear.   the   only   truth   in   this   world   from   his   lips   worth   preaching.

❝   𝚈𝙾𝚄   𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴   𝙰𝙻𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝚈   𝙶𝙸𝚅𝙴𝙽   𝙼𝙴   𝙵𝙰𝚁   𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴   𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽   𝙸   𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳   𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴   𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁   𝙰𝚂𝙺𝙴𝙳.   𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴   𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽   𝙸   𝙺𝙽𝙴𝚆   𝙸   𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙳.   𝙾’   𝙼𝚈   𝚂𝚄𝙽𝙻𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃,   𝚆𝙷𝙾   𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚂   𝚃𝙾   𝙼𝙴   𝙾𝙽   𝙱𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝙳   𝙺𝙽𝙴𝙴𝚂   𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷   𝙾𝙵𝙵𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂   𝙱𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙵𝚄𝙻...   𝙰𝙽𝙳   𝚈𝙴𝚃   𝚈𝙾𝚄   𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙻   𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙴𝚅𝙴   𝚈𝙾𝚄   𝙰𝚁𝙴   𝙽𝙾𝚃   𝙴𝙽𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷.   𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁   𝙼𝙴   𝙰𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙻𝙴,   𝙵𝙾𝚁   𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂   𝙸𝚂   𝙼𝚈   𝙶𝙾𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙻   𝚃𝙾   𝚈𝙾𝚄   :   𝙸   𝙰𝙼   𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂,   𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁.   ❞

#walrider: * bonks him w the i love you stick * #also hi friend I hope you're doing well ♥ #◜ response. ╱ ゜・ 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇬🇴🇩 🇮🇸 🇳🇴🇹 🇸🇴 🇲🇪🇷🇨🇮🇫🇺🇱. ・゜ ◝ #◜ inquiries. ╱ ゜・ 🇮🇹 🇭🇪🇦🇷🇸 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇸🇹🇦🇹🇮🇨 🇵🇷🇦🇾🇪🇷🇸. ・゜ ◝

[wclrider]

‘ don’t leave me, please. ’

prompt.  ( open )

𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴    𝙷𝙾𝚁𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙳𝚄𝚂    𝙽𝙾𝙸𝚂𝙴   𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚂    𝙱𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶    𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙷   ...    death    rattle   time    and    time   again    as    the   swarm    twists    and   falls    in    upon   itself.    not    a    moments    peace   felt    in    the   cold    here,    chemically    clean   floors    spattered    the   gore    of    man   who    had    dared   contain    it.    divine   wrath    to    be   swifty    and    brutally   executed    time    and   time    again    --   𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻    𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑽𝑬    𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑳𝑫   𝑵𝑶𝑻    𝑯𝑶𝑳𝑫    𝑯𝑰𝑴.   a    time    and   a    place    to   be    laid    to   rest    but    here   was    not    where   he    thought    it'd   be.    sputtering    some   inhuman    garbled    shriek   as    if    baying   for    release    from   its    artificial    prison.   the    airlock    release   and    the    rush   of    dark    mist   comes    forth    to   fall    unto    his   other's    arms    and   sink    deep,    deep,   deep    beneath    this   skin.     𝙰    𝙿𝚁𝙾𝚇𝙸𝙼𝙸𝚃𝚈   𝚃𝙾    𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷    𝙰𝙽𝙳   𝙼𝙰𝙳𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂.    and    what   perverse    fate    would   have    it    be   that    he    was   locked    outside    the   cold    of    his   mountain    once    more.   those    lungs    drawing   breath    in    and   the    commandment    ---   with    a    breath   of    a    suggestion    his   lover's    will    would   be    realized,    may   has    well    have   fallen    from    the   lips    of    god   themselves    if    the   walrider    was    concerned.    

                                     ----   𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵    𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦    𝘮𝘦,   𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦   ...

𝙰    𝙿𝚁𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁    𝙵𝙴𝙻𝚃   𝙸𝙽    𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙳    𝙰𝚂   𝙷𝙴    𝙻𝚄𝚁𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂    𝚄𝙿𝙾𝙽   𝙷𝙸𝙼,    spite    mixed   with    relief    like   something    vile    being   washed    away    from   shore.    nothing    but   warmth    remained    once   more.    garbled    thoughts   finally    given    meaning   once    more,    the   eyes    through    the   static,    the    lips   that    speak    through   that    holy    communion   they    share.    his   mountain,    his    chapel,   his    sacred    grounds   to    remain    untouched    by   man    and    their   greed    and    vengeance.    to   lay    their    hands   upon    him    would   be    heresy,    an   act    of    war,   a    wretched    and   vile    attack    upon   the    person    he   called    home.    and   if    they    wanted   war    then    so   be    it,    would   fight    with    all   the    remaining    life.   

 𝙴𝙾𝙽𝚂    𝙾𝙵    𝙸𝙽𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽    𝚁𝙰𝙽   𝙳𝙴𝙴𝙿,    but    it   all    meant    nothing   should    his    life,   his    love,    his   other    be    turned   into    a    pyre.   a    church    burning   on    a    hill   howling    out    in   flames    that    brazen   one    to    an   act    of    unholy   violence.    a    low   thrum,    humming    chorus   of    whispers    through   the    static.    a    commandment    or   a    promise    as   he    slips    through   those    doors    and   lays    upon    his   altar    :     𝙽𝙾   𝙶𝚁𝙰𝚅𝙴    𝙲𝙰𝙽    𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙳   𝙾𝚄𝚁    𝙱𝙾𝙳𝚈    𝙳𝙾𝚆𝙽,   𝚆𝙴'𝙳    𝙲𝚁𝙰𝚆𝙻    𝙷𝙾𝙼𝙴   𝚃𝙾    𝚈𝙾𝚄.    baying   at    his    doors,   he    was,    crying   again    and    again   fumbling    for    a    semblance    of   what    he    was   beyond    his    fervor   and    desperation.    praying   to    his    other   to    grant    him   the    right    to   inhabit    once    more   :     𝘚𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘛𝘜𝘈𝘙𝘠    !    𝘚𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘛𝘜𝘈𝘙𝘠    !

❝     𝙽𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁    ...   𝙸'𝙳    𝙽𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁.    ❞

                                                    𝐴𝑀𝐸𝑁 !

#◜ response. ╱ ゜・ 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇬🇴🇩 🇮🇸 🇳🇴🇹 🇸🇴 🇲🇪🇷🇨🇮🇫🇺🇱. ・゜ ◝ #thinking so bigly about them... #weeps. #them being reunited n walrider is going to be so clingy help

[wclrider]

How do you kiss something without a solid form, ever changing? Not entirely sure, but he's trying. Soft peek on what counts as a cheek, maybe. Maybe. Hopefully?

𝙷𝙾𝚆   𝙳𝙸𝙵𝙵𝙸𝙲𝚄𝙻𝚃   𝙰   𝚃𝙰𝚂𝙺   𝚃𝙾   𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙲𝙺   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙴𝚁   𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁𝚂   𝙾𝙵   𝙰   𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙼   𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂   𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙶...    shifting   in   itself   and   curling   outwards,   a   mass   always   writhing,   always   moving   even   when   still.   and   yet,   what   solid   hush   does   fall   o’er   the   swarm   when   the   tenderness   of   lips   connect   with   cheekbone.   the   nanites   sparking   with   stimulation   and   immediately   cataloging   every   bit   of   sensory   detail   he   could   gather   of   such   a   gentle   thing.   a   turn   of   his   head,   not   abrupt   or   harsh.   if   eyes   could   be   seen   their   gaze   would   no   doubt   be   owlish   and   wanting.   the   way   that   static   does   lapse   in   its   eternal   song,   ne’er   knew   how   loud   it   could   grow   and   crescendo,   peaking   the   audio   of   any   camera   surely   ---   but   not   now.   not   here.   the   song   lulls   to   a   false   end,   little   consensus   could   be   scrabbled   together   in   the   buzz   and   excitement.  

𝙰𝙽𝙳   𝚂𝙾,   𝙸𝚃   𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂   𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃   𝙸𝚃   𝙷𝙰𝙳𝙽’𝚃   𝙳𝙾𝙽𝙴   𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴...    sure   of   the   answer   his   swarm   is   meant   to   reach,   the   creature   acts   without   a   sort   of   consensus.   moving   forth   and   pressing   the   maw   of   its   mass   along   cheek   and   jawline,   though   no   lips   were   to   be   seen,   the   nanites   make   quick   work   of   flooding   o’er   his   skin   and   adoring   every   portion   he   could.   the   feeling   of   thousands   of   lips   upon   him,   overlapping,   timid,   before   it   draws   back.   the   way   their   eyes   meet,   it   inquires   without   uttering   a   word   between   their   connection   :   𝚆𝙰𝚂   𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃   𝙰𝙻𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃?

𝙸𝚃   𝙷𝙰𝚂   𝚂𝙴𝙴𝙽   𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁’𝚂   𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴...    those   young,   dumb   kind.   who   scorched   a   trail   up   the   mountain   to   be   alone,   hand   in   hand,   kiss   and   bathe   in   the   warmth   of   the   light   and   heat   upon   his   rocks   and   mounds   of   grassy   plains   curled   ‘round   his   form.   he’s   seen   the   look   in   their   eyes,   the   adulation   there,   and   he   has   never   known   anything   like   it.   being   feared,   being   worshipped,   leaves   little   room   for   such   a   love.   something   coveted,   far   beyond   the   love   of   any   god   or   devil.   he   wanders   into   those   eyes   as   he   leans   in,   if   he   could   catch   a   glimpse   of   something   like   that.   if   he   ever   could   have   earned   such   a   right   in   all   their   time   bound   together,   tangled   tethers   fought   fiercely   for   a   time.   fore   common   ground   was   found   and   they   employed   ways   to   match   each   other’s   oppositions   with   some   kind   of   gentle   understanding.

#◜ response. ╱ ゜・ 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇬🇴🇩 🇮🇸 🇳🇴🇹 🇸🇴 🇲🇪🇷🇨🇮🇫🇺🇱. ・゜ ◝ #◜ inquiries. ╱ ゜・ 🇮🇹 🇭🇪🇦🇷🇸 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇸🇹🇦🇹🇮🇨 🇵🇷🇦🇾🇪🇷🇸. ・゜ ◝ #apostlc #the swarm literally stunned into near hushed silence bc Kissy™ #he is !!!!!!!!!!!!!

[wclrider]

‘ ASLEEP. ’

prompt.  ( open )

𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃   𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙳   𝙸𝚂   𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃   𝚃𝙾   𝙰   𝙲𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙴   𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚃   𝙽𝙴𝙴𝙳   ?   ...   a   question   left   to   be   pondered   at   some   later   date.   it's   vision   is   unrelenting,   nothing   but   static   hiss   --   a   gospel   of   sand   to   be   read   to   lunatics   and   creature   unburdened   by   humanity.   few   to   look   upon   it   and   call   it   what   it   was,   fewer   still   to   live   and   tell.   but   his  intrigue   was   always   a   consistency,   voracious   sort   of   hungering   for   more!   more!   more!   spreads   like   a   wave   of   sand   and   static   --   an   itch   just   beneath   skin   that   sinks   to   marrow   and   sings   to   something   that   could   unmake   a   man   who   faltered   along   the   lyrics   half   understood.   found   in   the   dark   that   he   was   not   the   only   thing   sunken   to   those   bleached   bones   and   dark   eyes.   the   creature   that   sees   all   but   blinded   by   its   own   visage.   their   own   story   lost   to   time   and   suggestion.   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝚆𝙰𝙻𝚁𝙸𝙳𝙴𝚁   𝚆𝙰���   𝙰𝙻𝙻   𝚃𝙾𝙾   𝙵𝙰𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙸𝙰𝚁   𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷   𝚂𝚄𝙲𝙷...   but   such   is   the   nature   of   man.   to   regard   creatures   beyond   them   with   both   terror   and   hatred.   to   twist   a   story   to   fit   what   it   may,   but   a   god   had   no   time   for   correcting   rumors   that   would   shift   and   change,   bloom   again   next   eon.

𝙳𝙸𝙶𝙸𝚃𝚂   𝙱𝚁𝚄𝚂𝙷   𝙰𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙶   𝙳𝙰𝚁𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙴𝙳   𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚂    ...   lost   to   the   swarm   he   was   when   the   inky   black   of   the   rorschach-esc   creature   flitted   to   being   within   the   eye   of   a   mechanical   gaze.   vantablack   on   black,   twisting   and   turning   into   one   another,   he   takes   count   of   himself   and   all   the   flood   of   nanites   that   spill   o'er   him   as   he   rests.   what   nightmares   remained   in   a   mind   touched   by   madness,   an   ant   that   had   seen   through   the   eyes   of   man   for   a   fraction   of   a   second   before   realizing   the   perversion   of   its   actions.   the   natural   order   shuddering.   one   thing   was   certain,   he   was   bore   to   be   fed   to   the   realm   he   was   in   now   and   he   could   hear   the   howl   of   it   like   it   was   his   own   choir.  

❝   𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂   𝙿𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙴   𝙷𝙰𝚂   𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝚃   𝙸𝚃𝚂   𝙷𝙾𝙼𝙴   𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴   𝙾𝙵   𝚈𝙾𝚄,   𝙷𝙰𝚂𝙽'𝚃   𝙸𝚃?   ❞

#◜ response. ╱ ゜・ 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇬🇴🇩 🇮🇸 🇳🇴🇹 🇸🇴 🇲🇪🇷🇨🇮🇫🇺🇱. ・゜ ◝ #the. . they.

[wclrider]

“  i’m  fine.  i  can  walk  on  my  own.  ”

prompt.  ( open )

𝚂𝚃𝚄𝙱𝙱𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂   𝚆𝙰𝚂   𝙰𝙽   𝙸𝙻𝙻   𝙺𝙴𝙿𝚃   𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙰𝙽𝙸𝙾𝙽   𝚃𝙾   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝙴𝙽𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙴𝙴𝚁...    and   a   friend   well   known   and   loved   by   the   swarm.   however,   the   ego   behind   his   unwillingness   to   allow   for   assistance   was   irksome.   why   did   humans   always   have   to   be   so   difficult?   in   all   its   eons   upon   this   beautiful   earth,   the   creatures   that   did   inhabit   it   usually   made   sense.   they   all   have   their   place   and   purpose.   only   was   it   man   that   moved   their   ranks   over   the   years,   prey   to   predator.   top   of   the   food   chain.   and   yet...   𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈   𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙳   𝙾𝙽   𝙱𝙴𝙸𝙽𝙶   𝙵𝙾𝙾𝙻𝙸𝚂𝙷.    perhaps   it   was   their   unpredictable   nature   that   earned   them   their   rank   among   the   other   animals   upon   this   rock.   however,   the   walrider   was   no   mere   animal   to   be   subdued.   a   barrage   of   static   like   a   growl   from   below,   shudders   the   very   frame   of   the   man.

❝   𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙽   𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙾𝚆   𝙼𝙴   𝚃𝙾   𝙶𝚄𝙸𝙳𝙴   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝙼𝙾𝙻𝙳   𝚃𝙾   𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙻   𝚈𝙾𝚄.   ❞

𝚆𝙰𝚂   𝙸𝚃   𝙰   𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽   𝙾𝚁   𝙰   𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃?...    the   creature   always   spoke   in   definitive   and   demands,   inquiries   were   hardly   on   the   table.   and   yet...   it   looms   there,   simply   staring,   awaiting   some   form   of   acceptance.   a   show   of   his   hand,   an   olive   branch,   designated   arm   outstretched   as   a   sign   of   trust   to   be   taken   at   the   ready.  

❝   𝙰𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙴   𝚆𝙴   𝙰𝚁𝙴   𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙶,   𝙱𝚄𝚃   𝚃𝙾𝙶𝙴𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁...   ❞

𝙼𝙴𝙰𝙽𝚃   𝚃𝙾   𝙱𝙴   𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙳   𝙾𝙽𝙲𝙴   𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳   𝙸𝚂   𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴𝙽,   a   look   that   lures   you   in.   a   deal   with   a   devil   ---   or   perhaps,   more   accurately,   a   demon.   both,   damned   they   were,   but   it   hardly   mattered.   and   those   digits   would   grip   upon   him   with   such   careful   incremented   strength,   a   hold   that   makes   you   known   on   the   deepest   level.   to   be   held   in   mind   and   body   by   the   creator   of   the   mold   was   the   highest   honor   that   could   be   hand   in   a   valley   made,   crafted,   and   adored   by   and   for   the   swarm   alone.

#the mold already Does That but the walrider can make it far faster bc of both what he is and his power over the mold #he wants to ask first though to put him at ease. he pspspsps at heisenberg so he stop trying to fight him #◜ response. ╱ ゜・ 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇬🇴🇩 🇮🇸 🇳🇴🇹 🇸🇴 🇲🇪🇷🇨🇮🇫🇺🇱. ・゜ ◝ #◜ inquiries. ╱ ゜・ 🇮🇹 🇭🇪🇦🇷🇸 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇸🇹🇦🇹🇮🇨 🇵🇷🇦🇾🇪🇷🇸. ・゜ ◝ #metalbound

[wclrider]

❝ i heard explosions. what happened? ❞

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃.

        ↳   𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶.

𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙶   𝚆𝙰𝚂   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝙵𝙰𝙻𝙻   𝙾𝙵   𝙼𝚄𝚁𝙺𝙾𝙵𝙵   𝙿𝚄𝚃   𝙾𝙵𝙵,   greedy   men   with   their   staggered   broken   kingdom   forced   to   tumble   and   fall   down   unto   the   ashes   and   rubble.   to   fall   upon   their   own   sword.   perfect   embodiment   of   hubris,   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑   𝐈𝐍   𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.   and   there   did   it   remain,   burn   the   remains   and   then   burn   the   ashes   once   more.   long   did   it   hunger   to   salt   the   earth   with   the   gore   of   rotten   men   who   sought   to   leash   a   creature   beyond   their   comprehension.

𝙰𝙽𝙳   𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴   𝙸𝚃   𝚆𝙰𝚂,   his   hunger   come   to   fruition   in   a   way.   sated,   for   the   time   being   as   the   great   beams   of   metal   screech   upon   the   weight   and   ferocity   of   the   ants   gnawing   upon   its   long   limbs.   screeching   and   crashing,   down,   down.   the   howl   of   the   man   made   gods   in   the   air,   the   fear   of   those   within,   it   was   drinking   it   in.

𝚂𝙾   𝚂𝚆𝙸𝙵𝚃𝙻𝚈   𝙲𝙰𝙼𝙴   𝙰   𝚅𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴,   something   different.   a   man   he   had   not   witnessed before.   and   who   was   this?   an   unsuspecting   creature   who   came   to   tear   their   kingdom   down?...   or   sent   to   slay   a   god?   it   watches   with   bated   breath   for   what   the   blond   would   do,   floating   there   before   him   as   the   greed   builds   a   pyre   for   Murkoff.   one   thought   flickering   throughout   the   swarm’s   mind   as   eyeless   gaze   peers   into   Leon.   its   question   comes   like   a   sharpened   pain,   cutting   through   grey   matter   and   sinking,   seeping,   deep   within.   more   commandment   than   inquiry   in   tone   alone.

❝   𝙰𝙽𝙳   𝚆𝙷𝙾   𝙰𝚁𝙴   𝚈𝙾𝚄.   ❞

#◜ response. ╱ ゜・ 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇬🇴🇩 🇮🇸 🇳🇴🇹 🇸🇴 🇲🇪🇷🇨🇮🇫🇺🇱. ・゜ ◝ #◜ inquiries. ╱ ゜・ 🇮🇹 🇭🇪🇦🇷🇸 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇸🇹🇦🇹🇮🇨 🇵🇷🇦🇾🇪🇷🇸. ・゜ ◝ #rekennedy #hey i hope this is okay! #thank you so much for the ask #let me know if there are any problems o7 #the walrider: 👁️ 👁️ 👁️ 👁️

[wclrider]

“ mind over body. ”

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃.     ↳   𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶.

𝙰𝙽   𝙸𝙽𝚃𝚁𝚄𝙸𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙶   𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃   ...   such   to   be   expected   as   just   that,   odd,   to   the   artificial   god.   swarm   ever   curious   as   it   warps   around   her,   inspecting   seemingly,   questioning   ever   silently   :   𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙲   𝙿𝚁𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁   𝙾𝙵   𝙶𝙾𝙳   𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙴   𝙸𝙽   𝚈𝙾𝚄,   𝙲𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙳?   and   what   wretched   engine   of   manmade   greed   did   spill   and   sputter   like   some   great   beast   looming,   and   pouring   the   poison   of   blessings   into   the   waiting   maws   of   those   fed   to   it.   𝙼𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻   𝙶𝙾𝙳𝚂,   𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃’𝚂   𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃   𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙰𝙸𝙽𝙴𝙳.   in   all   his   time   living   in   the   mountain,   the   revelation   crept   upon   him   like   jackal   upon   some   unsuspecting   babe.   harsh   reality   that   men   worshipped   the   machine   like   they   used   to   worship   him,   left   with   two   choices   :   𝙴𝚅𝙾𝙻𝚅𝙴   𝙾𝚁   𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚃.

𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳   𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁   𝙱𝙾𝙳𝚈    ...   it   rings   out   in   the   creature’s   mind.   if   he   were   one   to   laugh   he   supposes   he   would,   hardly   did   it   matter   which   won   out   when   he   became   intertwined   with   both.   perhaps   that’s   what   she   meant,   to   stagger   him   with   such   a   cool   demeanor   and   entertaining   statement?   𝙲𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙾𝚄𝚂   𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶   𝚂𝙷𝙴   𝚆𝙰𝚂   ---   and   coming   from   the   walrider,   that   title   bestowed   silently   upon   her   meant   something.  

𝙸𝚃   𝚂𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙼𝚂   𝙰𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳   𝙷𝙴𝚁   𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙻   ...   losing   whatever   perverse   imitation   of   man   in   favor   of   a   dark   fog.   pondering   on   what   should   be   done   with   such   an   intriguing   specimen.   instead,   the   swarm   prods   calmly,   his   voice   ringing   out   through   the   static   he   bestowed   upon   her.

❝   𝙸𝚂   𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁   𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳   𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁   𝙾𝚆𝙽,   𝙲𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙳?   ❞

#◜ response. ╱ ゜・ 🇾🇴🇺🇷 🇬🇴🇩 🇮🇸 🇳🇴🇹 🇸🇴 🇲🇪🇷🇨🇮🇫🇺🇱. ・゜ ◝ #alicemarion #I hope this is okay!! I'm so sorry this took so long! #walrider grabbing her by the scruff: we have only known this sassy lost child for a day and a half and we WILL kill for them! :]