#miserycorde

[fishermcn]

@miserycorde clarified: "You know, the Blade of Miquella?"

"Thought that were Millicent?" He scratches the back of his head with a squint, grumbling when he inevitably catches onto a knot or three from the messy blonde locks.

#miserycorde #v. graceless eyes beneath golden boughs condemn your birth / once curses rain from burning branches you’ll know your worth ( elden ring. ) #// confusion.png

[yellowfingcr]

... aaand 👤+ Varré!

ask miss heysel for opinions / accepting!

She makes a vague expression and an even more vague gesture. Pipe smoke trails the motion of her hand.

“Hmm mmh. See, about him- what to say? He was the first presumably human creature I’d met after not only being dead for gods only knew how long, but also having some- struggles, let’s say, convincing my body that indeed it could get up and move again. And as you can imagine I was rather. Raw, yes. Half-walking, half-crawling. And against a resplendent backdrop I couldn’t fully appreciate here he was, clad in humble physician white. And the sound of his voice was the first I’d heard that wasn’t my howling, weeping own.”

“I could comprehend only partially what he was saying, honestly. Less out of difficulty with the whole maiden part and more because again nothing was going as it should have and my limbs would only somewhat answer to me and my ears wouldn’t reliably assemble sound into meaningful words. But I got the general message, spoken in that dulcet tone of his. And my first reaction was: I want to kill him. Immediately and vampirically I wanted to set my hands upon this man and grip to burst. Not quite anger in that, nothing, just something of an ancestral instinct preceding elaborated sense. But he was right, wasn’t he? I was maidenless. And he was right in informing me that my duty was to follow grace, even if, given my condition, I was likely to just die in obscurity. So I suppose I am thankful for his guidance. I can appreciate some honesty. But of the man himself… I cannot say much, for I cannot say to know him. He has his charm. He’s not unkind, I dare even say. But I believe I had that reaction because I felt him... Folded. Poised. Curled around an intention I couldn’t grasp. And maybe that’s why I wanted to wound him. To pry open that intention from the knit nest of his mind with my hands.”

#miserycorde #er au #// thank u!! heysel vc weird guy but not the weirdest!

[necrophcge]

❤️‍🔥 Heart on fire, 🧪 Test tube !

@miserycorde // plucking at their web of thoughts; pray you don't become the fly to their spider // not accepting.

❤️‍🔥 HEART ON FIRE — what angers you the most? what triggers this anger, and how do you cope with it? what does this anger feel like, if you had to describe it?

"... knowing that we were well and truly abandoned by our Mother." Oh, how even the admission alone threatens to kindle something within his abdomen. Where once there had been the need-sorrow, that longing for someone to look after him that instinct and kinship alone could not provide, now there smoldered something too old to be mere anger and too potent to be resentment. It rakes its sharp claws against his innards, threatens to bubble up his throat not unlike the most vile of venom, yet what emerges is just as acidic as his mandibles snap violently. "She ushered us into this world, born of her desperation and desire to live unleashed upon her foe and all of Caelid. She wrought us into being, spawned us from the Rot that writhed within her breast, and yet we are forsaken. We are looked down upon as pests, we the children of Malenia, not only by the hindlegs and their precious demigods dead or soon to be... but by Mother herself."

There is a noise not unlike a boiling kettle, a hiss soon followed by a hideous clacking of those razor-edged mandibles. "What else is there to do but turn sharp-claw and spear against the rest of these lands? What else is there but to return their loathing of us against them in return? To make the hindlegs and their lords and one day even Mother feel a measure of this... this loathing we've inherited... it's enough to soothe the ache. We are hated, and thus it feels only natural to hate them all in return."

🧪 TEST TUBE — if you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what is one thing you absolutely have to resolve and/or do before then?

"I would seek Gowry, in whatever pitiful kindred of mine that blight has taken host within now, and rend him limb from limb until the wriggling little thing that he truly is reveals itself... before snapping my jaws around it and crushing it wholly, utterly." There is a disgust that seeps into both of the dual tones of his voice, as if nauseated not only by the thought of the man but by how He Who Meddles would best dispose of him too. "Perhaps Mother would forever remain out of my reach. Perhaps I could not tear free the Goddess of Rot from her heart and bestow Her blessings upon my kindred and I. But at least the fiend would be dead, and hopefully too his undue reverence of Mother and dismissal of my kindred and I. May his death be painful and the memory of him hated."

#miserycorde #v. with malice and envy; we covet our mother’s blessing (elden ring.) #meddles vc bitterly: no i'm not bitter about malenia. why do you ask? #// bro has a chip on his shoulder for both malenia and gowry the size of the grand canyon lmao #// gowry gave him his name as an insult and malenia... well. see above rofl

[abandcned]

slump - for Varré 🥺

Send 'slump' for your muse to fall asleep leaning against my muse

It hadn't been long after his attempts to strike a conversation were responded with a barely audible hum or pure silence. Such reserved sort Nepenthe was, he didn't think much about it. Even he could take silence to a conversation as a possible 'give me some space' request. Gladly, he would grant it. Continuing to go through his pouch - perhaps something to fix the cracks in his mask.

Until,

slump.

Varré felt her weight press against his side, the nudged head against his shoulder. His head turned, greeted by the dark hair, peaceful closed eyes and relaxed expression. Poor thing. So, she couldn't hold it back anymore. While amusement tugged the corner of his mouth, he had no intentions to disturb her rest. A perfect time to let her gather some rest, a rare treat for anyone in the Lands Between. In fact, he could benefit of some, too. Where was the hurry?

He set aside the pouch, moving just a little to wrap an arm around her to further support her against him, to prevent her sliding off and potentially waking upon impact. Carefully, he laid down his back, taking her down with him slow enough to not wake her up. And arm still around, he pulled his shawl over, tucking her comfortably by his side. While she could enjoy the softness of his arm, he moved his other hand behind his head. Not the most comfortable position, but manageable.

#miserycorde #🗡*. answered #🗡*. muse — varré #|| I imagined how any person when they are close to fall asleep become more and more unresponsive xD #|| also he isn't a butt when he actually cares #|| may tease her later? probably!

[frcnzy]

@miserycorde // starter call

The heavy woosh of steel cutting is all that is heard as the blunted side of a scythe comes between the two, creating a defensive barrier and at least somewhat comfortable distance between Sirren and the white mask. Through white eyelashes burning orbs leered warily at the one who had been following her. After having an onslaught of violent creatures and humanids alike her patience was wearing rather thin for those lurking in the shadows. So when the newcomer finally got just close enough -- the blade back swung first, the turning of her head came after. suggesting her knowledge of their presence for quite some time whilst also giving the whispers of a threat if anything was tried in this moment. "You best have a good reason for following me before i come up with one better for taking your head."

#₊˚ muse ; sirren the confessor #miserycorde #[ sIRREN PLS ; im sorry shes cranky ; needs a nap]

[broots-and-beauts]

Everyone likes a good bit of broot here, right?

Plus a really nice chorus to top it off. You can’t go wrong!

#Oracles #Catabolic #I am #Miserycorde #Belgian melodeath #melodic death metal #symphonic metal #broots and beauts #brutal and beautiful

[patricksilverrose]

ABC’s of Metal - Day 7: O, P, Q & R

Oracles

#Oracles #An Adagio for the Callous #Miserycorde #death metal #progressive metal #extreme metal #female fronted metal #Sanna Salou #Sven De Caluwe #ABC's of Metal

[rustynr]

CD review: ORACLES - Miserycorde

CD review: ORACLES – Miserycorde

Oracles – Miserycorde

Label: Deadlight Entertainment

Release Date: July 1st, 2016

When hearing the term “supergroup”, I can’t help but find myself thinking of a bunch of old rocker guys creating a band that sounds subpar compared to everything else that they have ever done with their main projects (I’m looking at you Adrenaline Mob). I do know that there are some great supergroups out there as…

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#Andrei Aframov #Jeff Loomis #Ken Bedene #Mendel bij de Leij #Miserycorde #Oracles #Sanna Salou #Steve Miller #Sven de Caluwé

[m3t4ln3rd]

Oracles stream Miserycorde in its entirety

Oracles are now streaming their debut full-length Miserycorde, which is out now on Deadlight Entertainment. Copies of the album can be found here (CD) and here (bundle). Miserycorde track listing: 1. “An Adagio For The Callous” 2. “The Tribulation Of Man” 3. “Catabolic (I Am)” 4. “Quandaries Obsolete” 5. “Scorn” 6. “Body Of…

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#Deadlight Entertainment #Miserycorde #Oracles

[theshuffles]

Oracles - S(k)in

#Oracles #S(k)in #Miserycorde #Death Metal #Melodic Death Metal #Extreme Metal #Female Fronted Metal #Aborted #System Divide #NEW #Metal

[fishermcn]

Smash or Pass + Eleonora, Violet Bloody Finger

@miserycorde // sinday shenanigans.

"Fuckin' pass." Raising the bottle up to his thin lips again, Crow takes a deep gulp or two before setting it aside, leaning back in that rickety chair of his. Room ain't spinning yet, but there's a warmth spreading out from somewhere in his spindly chest that's feeling mighty pleasant. "Ain't about looks. What I seen was... fine. More than, really. Skin like a polished pearl, strong jawline... somethin' else."

Then he's shaking his head, and Crow hisses out a breath between his teeth. "Cessbloods, though. Mhm. Bad lot, them. Never had trouble with her, mind, but... killers all, they are." A stained finger tap-taps the neck of the bottle as a cough rattles free from his throat. "Ain't never heard her speak. Kinda unnerving."

#miserycorde #v. graceless eyes beneath golden boughs condemn your birth / once curses rain from burning branches you’ll know your worth ( elden ring. ) #// sam vc: ain't no way i'm gettin' inbetween whatever she and that old fella yura have going on either

[yellowfingcr]

👤+ Marika :)

ask miss heysel for opinions / accepting!

She taps the thin edge of her pipe against her lip, in pensive quiet for some time. Then she exhales. 

“Now, I am not, in many regards, a local. I am indeed born upon lands blessed by gold. My parents were not. And even though I did come to existence and died and returned to life anew here, despite all, I never could help but feel more of a guest. I loved what little my father would tell me about the Leviathan, the god of all that departs he’d halfheartedly carried with himself when he left the east; I mention its name still, from time to time. Now more than ever. It seems appropriate. In some nook of my soul, that remnant of old faith is my god.”

“So Marika would not be my god if I could choose but true godhood does not concern itself with personal wants. She is mine and she is one. Radiant as dawn she is one. Sunken past sight’s cusp she is one. And I-”

She hesitates. Words and the compromise of meaning they demand: what a daily small butchery. This is the sort of subject Heysel wishes could possess exception and just be plucked raw and bloody from the depths of her to be placed within her interlocutor’s understanding, in its exact size and shape, its every shade and fractaling jagged edge intact. 

“-I think she is immense. Conqueror, strategist, queen, mother. Spiller of blood, weaver of curses. The finest mind we have ever beholden, the harshest fist. She, who forever changed history and broke math into new bonds of material certainty. She, who is testament that this is power and that power cannot be anything but this- this… climbing the mountain of corpses you have made of your opponents and from its height deciding what continues living, what doesn’t. How it lives, how it dies. To determine the context through which choices move. This is her truth. It is yours, too. A truth of violence."

Her eyes, so wide, unblinking. She’s looking above and ahead, as if to hope to glimpse her there, like the dot-wide light of an impossibly distant planet. 

“I saw her once. Once only. When we were condemned to graceless exile. I kept thinking, this is absurd. I should not be able to lay my gaze on her. She is so infinite. And yet. And here I am, again. I don't know. If I do reach the end of my path I will see her. How will it be? To be face to face with her?”

"How will it feel, to kill her?"

#miserycorde #er au #// super complicated subject for her! mixed feelings from a killer

[necrophcge]

@miserycorde

Hunting in Caelid is always a rare opportunity. Those tarnished that survive long enough to reach the Roundtable Hold are often taught by their elders to avoid the wastes, lest they fall prey to the terrors born of Aeonia's bloom or become swallowed whole by the kiss of her Scarlet Rot. Few of those grace-given souls brave the region as a result, and thus his service to the Volcano Manor far more often sees him in pursuit of targets trekking through the crystal-cold of Liurnia's waters or wandering the bright-gold fields of the Atlus Plateau.

But when those tarnished unfortunate enough to garner the eyes of Gelmir dare to walk where the mightiest demigods of the Shattering warred down to their very last... Tanith knows who to send.

Even now He Who Meddles navigates the ruined landscape with an unsettling ease, with only the faintest rustle of chitin against stone and the crunch of ruined earth beneath his claws as proof of his passing. Clambering over the smoldering walls with nary a burn, passing beneath the notice of the stricken dead wandering the roads and camouflaging himself at the telltale pawing or flapping of those greater beasts... though the years since his parting with this place have been many, Caelid remained home, and hunting through these parts once again brings him a sort of comfort he hasn't realized he's missed.

Coming to a stop at a barren outcropping, He Who Meddles leered down onto the weathered road of stone that still wound itself through Caelid. Perhaps half a mile ahead lay his quarry, little the wiser to their pursuer as they tended to their horse. A knight-errant of some sort by their look and bearing, though the shabbiness of their armor and the unsteadiness of their gait as tromped about spoke little of their skill. No doubt this would be over without much struggle or difficulty, and He Who Meddles allowed himself a low whirr of displeasure at the thought of the hunt ending so soon.

At least until the scent of something pungent and sweet tainted the air. His mandibles clicked together quietly in contemplation, confusion blooming somewhere within his abdomen. What was this, this scent of fouled-blood that pooled upon his maw? Pitch black eyes quickly scan his surroundings, and they spot the source of the strange scent in time to the sound of crumbling stone under a heel. Another hunter? Here?

#miserycorde #v. with malice and envy; we covet our mother’s blessing (elden ring.) #// can't believe someone's crashing meddles' vacation smh #// sorry for the delay my friend ^^

[abandcned]

@miserycorde continued x

What once served as a final rest for someone in far past had now become something he could call a home, even. Having yet to reach the comforts of his humble abode, Varré's visage was still hidden behind the sculpt of the mask. Yet, the tone of the voice intentionally delivered what the lack of expression couldn't. He couldn't believe what she was content with. Considering the both were recognized members of the Dynasty, it must have been of choice.

Seemingly, this was how she lived, like a hermit without a roof. How very unfortunate... he thought, as his hands tucked together.

He could only ponder, why.

Towards his genuine offer, her face spoke of reluctance. And, if he hadn't learnt to know her entirely wrong, she was of a reserved sort. A little convincing, may do the trick.

" Oh, my lambkin. You know me, mm? I would spend a night restless in warmth, surrounded by comforts, every second loathing for having left you exposed for elements and the wanderers. Come, come along. I will host you well, spoil you, share what I have without a thing expected in return."

A pause.

"Unless, you prefer solitude... I, prefer the opposite. "

He turned on his heels, few steps taken away towards where the grand ruins stood - however, with an angle of the tilted head, he created a sneaky glance towards her, to see if she decided to accept it.

#miserycorde #🗡*. threads #🗡*. muse — VARRÉ

[badgersmetalbreakdown]

New Video up for " Scorn" by Oracles featuring members of Aborted and System Divide

New Video up for ” Scorn” by Oracles featuring members of Aborted and System Divide

Oracles  just put up a video for “Scorn” for their upcoming release of Miserycorde due out this July.

Oracles is

Sven de caluwe: vocals Sanna Salou: vocals Mendel bij de Leij: guitars Steve Miller: guitars Andrei Aframov: bass Ken bedene: drums

Check them out on FACEBOOK for  up to date news and other information

-Badger \m/

V…

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#Aborted #Miserycorde #New album #New Music #new video #Oracles #Scorn #System Divide

[yellowfingcr]

@miserycorde replied to your post “// more tidedark psoiker heysel”:

[[POINTS AT DARKTIDE ENJOYMENT... oh she must be having so much fun as a psyker in the stinky torment nexus]]

// heysel vc SMILING THROUGH IT ALL CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS MY LIFE

you are correct! being an expendable psyker asset for the inquisition thrown repeatedly against infected hordes beats scavenging a sort of life while constantly on the run from the harm kind of everyone wants to either inflict on her or truly wishes upon her the instant her attempts at passing as a Normal Person fail- here she might be distrusted and disliked, but she can live, without pretending to be anything she's not, in the certainty of warmth and food given to her. more than she could have said to have before her imprisonment!

she gets to openly be who she is! she is needed, feared and respected for her powers! she is almost sure she's not going to set foot in a black ship ever! above all she gets to kill freely. what more could she ask for

#miserycorde #wh au #doodlings / #// ft nep :] #shirt that says I HEART THE TORMENT NEXUS #I can see her as a gun psyker build tbh! #you will have to BEG for shields she's running scrier's gaze