xeccedentesiastx:

http://michellemonique.deviantart.com/

victoriousvocabulary:

CARNIFEX

[noun]

1. executioner.

2. the public executioner at Rome, who executed persons of the lowest rank; hence, an executioner or hangman.

Etymology: Latin from caro, carnis - flesh + facere - to make.

[Ken Sarafin]

grem:

Time

deaths-song:

Things are as they are and will be as they will be. I am who I always have been- I am no different now than I was before we started this conversation. You are as dear to me now as you were before, and as dear as you have been many decades, as are your True Siblings. I hope what you now know of me does not change. I do not wish to be considered a… what is that mortal term… a princess. I do not want to be kowtowed to, placed higher than anyone. I am no better than you- to the contrary, I have not your aptitude nor fiery courage.

…I hope you are right in that. At the turn of the tide, I do not want to be helplessly stranded as an onlooker while those I care fore may be in need of my help.

{He shifted, a little unsure of himself… and of her. She was of a higher position than he was, obviously, and he was suddenly well aware of how powerful she was. All this time he hadn’t a single clue. And now he knew}

We need everyone in this. This rebellion is taking too many lives. We need to end this, Mirri, and we need to do it fast.

(Source: thethreereapers)

(LOOK WHAT I FOUND)

You are stronger than you realize. One day you will rise above the downtrodden and lead us to victory.

I know this. I’ve seen this.

I am proud of your future self.

deaths-song:

The Elders have kept me sheltered. Moreso than I perhaps would like. I do not know as much of the world, ours or theirs, as I ought to at my age. Perhaps this has done my mind and body well. Perhaps I was made differently. I know I am not as powerful as the Thirteen, by a long way. I cannot fight and wield no weapon, even my Artifact is but a fife.

I am a little songbird in a gilded cage, to be truthful. I have written most of the songs sung by our kind, yet I know when the time for change comes, to fight to make things better, I will be of little to no use. I regret this deeply, for I want to see things as they were once… I want it so much, Altael…

You are our Songmistress? You are the loremistress of our kind? The one who made those hymns and songs? How can this be? I knew you were different, and special, but I hadn’t a clue you were…

{He folds his wings back, a little confused. He had no idea such a person truly existed. If this were the case, he was looking upon someone who was far superior than he was. Under normal circumstances he would bow, perhaps kneel, before her}

If you are our songbird, and someone that “our Father” has made, you may be powerful, more than you even imagined. You may lead us. An artifact may be your fife, but your voice is also a weapon for you… or a shield.

(Source: thethreereapers)

deaths-song:

thethreereapers:

I can scarcely believe he was one a gentle Elder, sibling. I can’t see it. As far as I can see, we’ve been mired in this situation, and I doubt we can ever break free. The rebellion is going slowly, and I fear nothing will come from this. We’ll end up fading away. Unum is winning.

Father. I do not believe in the mythos surrounding that figurehead. He does not exist.

He does. Believe as you will- I am not going to contest your personal beliefs, and any changes you make to them are your own. But I can tell you he exists, having seen him and known him myself. He is… a very kind being. Innocent almost in his way but very powerful.

He made… fourteen children to help carry out his work before he left. Thirteen of no gender other than what they would choose for themselves, and one daughter. He came and he went… for years, decades at a time… then one day, centuries ago, he left and never came back. I know he’ll return one day, but… I hope it’s soon. But I fear it won’t be until it’s all but too late. … Father’s sense of time has never been the best, you see…

He exists? Then show me proof, for I do not believe in such mythos. Father, if he does exist, has abandoned us. He has left us to rot, to decay, under Unum’s rule. That bastard left us to our own slow demise! 

{He’s about to challenge her once more, but then he listens to her. Thirteen children, an unlike number by most standards. But he broke it up by creating another? And one of a gender? A daughter? Then he began to realize, the cogs turning in his mind}

…you are that old? No. That cannot be. Elders are superior Psychopomps, the originals. Any other Reaper would have gone insane with the want and need to fade away after so long. Even my one true sibling wishes to, and he’s not even old by standards. How in the name of the great cycle of death can you be her?

deaths-song:

thethreereapers:

This should not be forbidden. I am beginning to realize what is labeled as forbidden to us is truly, and wholly, poisoning us, keeping is in a slow, agonizing death that we cannot perish from. Do you feel it, kin sibling? Do you feel it? Do you realize that the dictatorship we’ve been leashed in by, for all these centuries, has been the one thing killing us? Keeping emotions blacklisted, keeping individual thoughts ousted? Now, more than ever, we need to break free!

Yes, I know. It was not always this way. it was not what Father wished us to be. Things were better once. Even Unum was gentler once upon a time, still stern but far more compassionate, and far, far less a dictator. I wish you could have known it as it was then, dear Altael.

I wish… I wish Father would come home. It has been so long…

I can scarcely believe he was one a gentle Elder, sibling. I can’t see it. As far as I can see, we’ve been mired in this situation, and I doubt we can ever break free. The rebellion is going slowly, and I fear nothing will come from this. We’ll end up fading away. Unum is winning.

Father. I do not believe in the mythos surrounding that figurehead. He does not exist.