➥ I. Week 1
Nov. 3rd, 2025 12:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nestingdevil posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
cultmirror[The tension from the Murmur is so intense, it's almost physical. The strain, the tightness of it, like barbed wire, stretching beyond its limits. It's vicious, in a way. In a way that it almost chokes; the feeling more similar to a heat, sucking everything dry, dry, dry.]
[And all the while, there's the noise. Not words, not a language, but a howling of sorts. As if a group of something (people, the ghosts of them) are sighing behind a thick, lead door that's been locked and sealed shut.]
[Greed clicks his teeth, and the roar dulls. But it never goes away, not entirely. More, it's muffled. Drowned out by a drumming that scritches, that scratches, for the more of it all.]
Nothing's free in this world or the next, is it? [The Sin slurs, tasting something on his tongue.] Fine, then. An equivalent exchange.
[He flicks out a finger, and the Murmur shudders. The pluck of it, turning from a sensation of cold steel to a humming, vibrant gold.]
Lookin' for anyone familiar with alchemy. Call it a favor. [A glimpse bleeds through. Of a stone, red and jagged. But if anyone's looking closely, they might be able to see something else on the surface: a bubbling of vacant faces and bodies, reaching out, reaching forward, as if they're trying to reclaim something that's already lost.]
[The Sin's joints crack, and the moment fades away. A snippet, shutting as fast as a quick-snapped fan.]
And in return? Well, I guess that depends on what you really want.
OOC Note | If hunger's the game, avarice is the name. Got a tether with Greed? Feel free to assume that they're getting some (or all, we don't judge here) of that want of his, trickling in. Think of it like a fever, or whatever you want it to feel like. The world's your oyster!
CW for the Image Link: Disobeyed souls, general body horror.You can fit so many dead people in this former homunculus
[And all the while, there's the noise. Not words, not a language, but a howling of sorts. As if a group of something (people, the ghosts of them) are sighing behind a thick, lead door that's been locked and sealed shut.]
[Greed clicks his teeth, and the roar dulls. But it never goes away, not entirely. More, it's muffled. Drowned out by a drumming that scritches, that scratches, for the more of it all.]
Nothing's free in this world or the next, is it? [The Sin slurs, tasting something on his tongue.] Fine, then. An equivalent exchange.
[He flicks out a finger, and the Murmur shudders. The pluck of it, turning from a sensation of cold steel to a humming, vibrant gold.]
Lookin' for anyone familiar with alchemy. Call it a favor. [A glimpse bleeds through. Of a stone, red and jagged. But if anyone's looking closely, they might be able to see something else on the surface: a bubbling of vacant faces and bodies, reaching out, reaching forward, as if they're trying to reclaim something that's already lost.]
[The Sin's joints crack, and the moment fades away. A snippet, shutting as fast as a quick-snapped fan.]
And in return? Well, I guess that depends on what you really want.
OOC Note | If hunger's the game, avarice is the name. Got a tether with Greed? Feel free to assume that they're getting some (or all, we don't judge here) of that want of his, trickling in. Think of it like a fever, or whatever you want it to feel like. The world's your oyster!
CW for the Image Link: Disobeyed souls, general body horror.
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