used /r
# 3
Details:[d20-2 (5)]used /r
# 3
Details:[d5 (3)]used /r
# 19
Details:[d20+3 (16)]used /r
# 3
Details:[d20-2 (5)]used /r
# 1
Details:[d5 (1)]used /r
# 17
Details:[d20+3 (14)]used /r
# 16
Details:[d20-2 (18)]used /r
# 19
Details:[d20+3 (16)]used /r
# 15
Details:[d20-3 (18)]used /r
# 16
Details:[d20+2 (14)]used /r
# 1
Details:[d20-3 (4)]used /r
# 5
Details:[d5 (5)]used /r
# 11
Details:[d20+2 (9)]used /r
# 9
Details:[d20-3 (12)]used /r
# 3
Details:[d5 (3)]used /r
# 17
Details:[d20+2 (15)]used /r
# 7
Details:[d20-2 (9)]used /r
# 3
Details:[d20-2 (5)]used /r
# 28
Details:[d20+8 (20)]used /r
# 18
Details:[d20 (18)]used /r
# 5
Details:[d20+2 (3)]used /r
# 4
Details:[d4 (4)]used /r
# 8
Details:[4d2 (2 2 2 2)]used /r
# 17
Details:[25-8 ()]used /r
# 27
Details:[d20+8 (19)]used /r
# 7
Details:[d20 (7)]used /r
# 6
Details:[d20+2 (4)]used /r
# 6
Details:[2d6 (5 1)]"Fine! Is that what you want? A pathetic, undignified death! It'd suit you! A dirty death for a dirty man."
Darcy turned backwards only briefly- to the tables full of food, and took from them a meat-carving knife that'd been placed next to a very nice plate of turkey. He approached Peregrine with the blade in hand. @soul | kallum 🔥 + peregrine 🎭
3Peregrine put his hand on the other's and then pushed forward, leaning down. His lips met Darcy's, a delicate kiss that had felt more real than anything else he'd done since she was gone. A true loving kiss, gratitude pouring from Peregrine's body into the small motion, his chapped, still bile-flavoured lips too small to contain everything that he felt Darcy earned. Breathlessly, into Darcy's mouth, he whispered, "Thank you."
@innsjo | kyrie🪶+ darcy🖋+npcs
1Darcy stepped away from the kiss, disgust and hatred written all over his features. He did not move away from Peregrine, though. He angled the blade properly, he took in a deep breath to prepare himself for everything he was about to do, everything he had to do, everything he always knew he would do-
He slid the knife into the soft flesh of Peregrine's throat. He tore it open, rupturing his airways and cutting off his voice. He wouldn't ever get the chance to let out a dying scream- only a choked, horrible gasp as blood spurted out of his wound. And oh, what a bloody wound it was. Peregrine's lifeblood coated Darcy- covering his hair, his face, the fine white of his suit.
But Darcy didn't care. He held up Peregrine's body as life violently left it. @soul | kallum 🔥 + peregrine 🎭
4Peregrine spluttered as the knife hit its mark. Maybe for a second, the knife digging in felt like the millions of hickeys, the throat forever supple, ready to be marked and bruised, displaying its ownership.
His eyes stayed fixed on Darcy, soft as the light began to drain, even as his body buckled under him, knees instinctively dropping to the floor.
His wings stayed stretched out, away from the massacre. Untouched.
@innsjo | kyrie🪶+ darcy🖋+npcs
2Darcy dropped Peregrine's lifeless corpse when it became so clear life had left him. He stepped back as it slumped horribly in a pool of his own blood. He held onto the knife, trembling, and with his other hand unconciously wiped his face of that same blood. He pushed up his glasses to pinch at his temples.
What had he done?
Darcy would not get much of a chance to contemplate. Naiyta descended quickly from the bandstand, a mess of panic and frantic movement. "What have you done?!" It almost screamed at him. "You weren't supposed to kill him! You knew you weren't supposed to kill him!"
"I don't- I-" Darcy sputtered. He angled the knife in a sloppy attack formation, like he might stab Naiyta next.
Of course, he would never get the chance. Naiyta stepped up close to him, and placed a hand to his forehead. "Shut up. I don't want to hear your excuses."
"Please. Please don't kill me." Darcy closed his eyes in the moment he had left. He was crying.
5
5
3 4
5Naiyta didn't reply. There wasn't anything left to say.
As life began to leave Darcy, as his make-believe heart slowly slowed and the thoughts that had already been written into him became harder and harder to form, he began to break apart. White lines grew all over his body- splitting him apart like a butcher would make cuts of meat. The silvery dust of his hands fell apart- what had once held the form of hands now fell apart. His eyes rolled back in his head, his lips parted in a final breath, and something in him was singing- a thousand voices in a million tongues, all spilling out every word, every syllable, everything that made him everything. Everything he was. Everything. Everything in him, suddenly turning him into nothing.
Here was his final page. The end to the story. The full stop that would finally conclude him. Every story had to have a conclusion. Every poem had to have it's final line. Nothing made by human hands could last forever.
This was the end.
The singing grew lounder- a complete ringing, ear-piercing siren's song. The light enveloped him like a return to what he once was. From dust he came, to dust he will return.
It was the final phrase on the pages that had created him. He knew that, didn't he?
And to dust, he returned. When the light faded, all that remained of Darcy was a sheen of silver dust.
3naiyta : 