"Oh~ And what makes you think you have the right to question us?" Háðung's voice, laced by antecedent blight of faithless duplicity, barked. Her figure perniciously poised, cretinous to her prior ordinance, her tanned face of roguish beauty sentineled by a veil of shade treacherously positioned mere millimetres before the incarcerated adolescent. Cognate breaths, torrid, vixenish birthed progeny of perspiration atop Eros's winsome flesh, the intertwined offspring of the paradoxical twins.
"Nothing. I'm in no power whatsoever to ask such a query of you," Eros begrudgingly murmured, a singular serpentine hand bereft of its prior prison of cadaverous, bloodcurdling flesh recherchély placed atop Háðung's hauntingly calescent cheek. "But I want to know. I really… really want to know." The boy diaphanously continued, his every word, every utterance a salacious, erotic, adulterous enticement. Heterochromatic eyes, the left of pink, the right a primordial brown, appeared glazed, prepossessed by a pestiferous lecherous miasma.
{+6 Affection (Háðung Hróðvitnir)}
"Huh," Háðung innately convulsed. Twin thighs beckoned into a perpetual shivering dance, her mind whimsically anchored upon his eternally venereal visage, cretinous to the nightmarish, direful leer of her Gemini peer.
"First, tell us how you know about him," From behind breathed the wretched morose resonance of Mánagarmr, her figure unsettled, forced into a bout of desultory bondage, cadaverous twin hands pulled upon Eros's outstretched palm, deathless, abhorrent in their adoption of the youth's appendage, thralldom of utmost wretchedness. Saliva dripped listlessly from the beauty's dolorous aperture, languidly aggregating upon twain mounds of pink flesh, perverting that which lay aneath.
"I see him, or at least I think it's him, a boy without a master. Walking the halls incessantly unattended, something no mere F-rank would be permitted to repeat ad infinitum, as if exempt from the rules because of his regnant status." Eros debaucherous beguiled, his statement nought but the mere apocryphal delusions of a melodramatic teen.
"...That sounds like him…And do you know why he's exempt from such norms?" Mánagarmr wistfully sighed, her singular lucent eye ever more apathetic, tempestuous, tumultuous with myriad unbridled unapprehended emotions.
"Because he's an apostle? Fiamma told me as such…Though I don't truly understand what that means." Bloodcurdling, hyperborean astriction, a burden unfathomable, air antecedently stifling appeared eerily tepid while the spasmodic dance of the fulgurating candle lay quelled, massacred without as much as an innate dying throe.
"Use your ability on us. Tell us what you see!" Háðung vehemently barked, a malign, shuddersome pressure grating upon the youth's exposed chest as if uncaring to the multitudinous beds of cloth that guarded such tundral plane.
"Wait, Háðung, I don't think he shou-"
"It doesn't matter what he sees. Besides, we were told to assess his ability anyway. So hurry up and do it. Use your partial analysis!" The empyreal girl unscrupulously roared, the foreign pressure that hounded Eros's chest smouldering with a torturous igneous incandescence. Twain eyes lay lucidly reverent upon the youth's grieving form, yet infinitely cretinous to the boy's coruscation of vivid pink.
{Name: Háðung Hróðvitnir}
{Age: 19}
{Race: Human}
{Sex: Female}
{Title(s): Apostle of Sköll Hróðvitnisson}
{Rank: God (Monster)}
{Tier: 3}
{Abilities}
{Tier 1: #$&*(}
{Tier 2: $#*@}
{Tier 3: #$*?}
{Love: 53%}
{Name: Mánagarmr Hróðvitnir}
{Age: 19}
{Race: Human}
{Sex: Female}
{Title(s): Apostle of Hati Hróðvitnisson}
{Rank: God (Monster)}
{Tier: 3}
{Tier 1: #$&*(}
{Tier 2: $#*@}
{Tier 3: #$*?}
{Love: 67%}
"I-Ah! I can only read your names. What's with this? I can't even see your esper abilities. I don't understand. What's going on!" Eros ruefully wailed.
Relief.
Instantaneously, did the adolescent appear liberated from his prior, searing plight, his stomach inundated by nectar unknown, its temperature rebarbatively warm.
{+3 Affection (Háðung Hróðvitnir)}
{+2 Affection (Mánagarmr Hróðvitnir)}
"Good!" Mánagarmr bewitchingly sighed, "Then it's fine for us to tell you what we think of him," The lunar beauty wistfully continued, apathetic to the youth's fictitious turmoil.
""We hate him!"" Gemini voices, synchronous, cognate in tone, maleficently snarled, "The academy lets his temper go unrestrained simply because he's an apostle…but to us, he's more like a deranged beast. Surely you've heard the rumours right! Though calling them rumours is a pathetic lie! every girl in this academy knows the truth!" Háðung savagely bellowed, her singular eye effulgent with light of sovereign, omnipotent abhorrence.
"Girls fall for him. They cling to him in a vain attempt to earn an apostle's affection! And do you know what he does?! He beats them. Everyone's seen them, their face unrecognisable, their bodies mangled, cruelly deformed! Even with all the healing espers at the academy, a second chance at life is impossible!... and sometimes. No! In most cases, he simply kills them, uncaring for their status and their families. He just claims that he was overcome by a bout of madness, and the academy permits his misgivings. And then the cycle repeats! I hate that bastard! If sanctioned, I would kill him in a heartbeat! We both would!" Háðung cataclysmically roared, yet, her words fell upon nought but despondent sequestered ears.
'He actually kills them…espers, how? Why?... Why? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY?! These girls desire him, they bear an emotion I wouldn't describe as love but something close to it, and yet, it always ends the same way, with them mutilated beyond comprehension. …Gabriella, there's no way…it can't be. She likely just heard the rumours… but her voice, her tone, it felt personal! I-I want to know more. I can't assume anything.' Eros harrowingly monologued, nascent, cretinous to the perpetually moving hands of the lunar apostle, for tenebrous light, bloodcurdlingly waxen impregnated the plane, progeniture to the dissonant throe of an open aperture.
"I-I think I might just share in your hatred, though unlike you, I can't act on it. After all, I'm just an F-rank," Eros wearily joked, twain mounds of flesh pellucidly pregnant with blanched light of achromatic ancestor forced into a doleful, heartrending smile, variegated hair ebullient with an eerily picturesque chroma.
{+6 Affection (Háðung Hróðvitnir)}
{+2 Affection (Mánagarmr Hróðvitnir)}
"T-That's fine, w-when the time comes, I'll make sure to deliver your animosity p-personally," Háðung frantically stuttered, her face illumined by the light of alabaster phantasmically depraved by pigmentation of enamoured, mesmeric rose, a tanned nose spasmodic in its aphrodisiacal breaths, "Mánagarmr w-we, need to go now, the in-questioning's over!" Háðung falteringly spluttered, her 183cm figure lurching into a chaotic bout of maladroit animation. Artless did she embrace her twin's luminous waxen wrist forcing the pining girl to depart from the eerily crepuscular domain, a singular outstretched hand recherchély billowing amid the desolate corridor, desirous in its venture to embrace the heterochromatic boy.