Fandom 『❀』— 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐨𝐯𝐰; 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝

[rainy]

[IMG='width:237px;']https://i.pinimg.com/originals/22/df/e7/22dfe77319083b13f4ec377f32af4ec6.jpg[/IMG]

⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰⌍
starter for ObitoPancake
⌎⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⇲⊰⌏​

The quiet clicking of heels sounded the empty palace's halls as the god walked aimlessly, bored and with an insatiable need for something stimulating. He never had much to do all by his lonesome in the vapid middle of a tundra, and he had long since completed doing what he could in the palace; decorating rooms with paintings and quick-withering flowers, furnishing each bedroom and ornamental space, reading every book and file he could in the archives. There were rooms littered with treasures and trophies he had collected from those he had felled in the past, a well-stocked armory that had golden, bedazzled guns of all sorts, and a pantry stocked with food that would not sate him. He had once even thought of starting a garden but dismissed the idea, as there would be no way he could cultivate one without the use of magic in the cold expanse.

The god figured he could use some fresh air, even if he didn't really need it. He wouldn't allow himself to wander much further than the perimeters of his castle, knowing well that doing so would only lead to ...disappointment. He stepped outside into the brisk air, watching the breath he exhaled through his mask cling to the air like a cloud of smoke. His very being had wisps of frost falling from him in small coils. The trees in the near distance were green with pine needles, softly swaying in the breeze. He shortly realized afterwards that this activity only made him yearn for more area to roam, and he imagined the other deities frolicking around with all the freedom they had. None of them were plagued with the insatiable need for souls, the lucky bastards. He sighed, leaning against one of the palace's iced walls.

 

[ObitoPancake]

A dull roar engulfed the room as hungry orange flames devoured the dry timber they had been offered. The kindled fireplace fought hard to keep the cool autumn air at bay as the owner of the cabin in which it resided sat comfortably in a rickety old rocking chair. Tapping his feet lightly on the ground, the assassin kept himself rocking back and forth as he drifted deeper into his own thoughts. You see, living alone came with its disadvantages; long, quiet hours left the assassin feeling quite lonely at times regardless of how many jobs he was given. He had no hobbies, as his jobs tended to take up most of his time. Not that he would have had any if he had any free time.

Truth be told, the assassin was a rather dull man behind his mask.

He ran a hand along the smooth oak arm of his rocking chair before pushing himself up. With a few quick steps, he closed the gap between himself and the window of his cabin; by the looks of the sky, it was nearly time for him to get going. This particular job was going to be a lengthy one as he had come to learn. The icy deity he was after was not one to go down easily. It only took a few minutes, but after packing his bag, the assassin extinguished the hungry orange beast and set off for the tundra.

 

[rainy]

Shiver decided to feel sorry for himself for just a moment longer, leaning off of the wall he was previously against to head back inside. He took one last glance at the surrounding nature before the scene in front of him was replaced with the cold metal door of the palace.

The interior was not all that different from the exterior; the walls looked like glacial shards of ice that stood against one another and the chandeliers that hung from the ceiling were crystalline and equally as reflective as the surfaces around them. He remembered how difficult it was to set those up, having fallen multiple times from ladders and hurting himself repeatedly. What was equally difficult was moving all of the heavy furniture he had into each individual room, including every bedroom, the gallery, the trophy room, and the armory. All for art and aesthetics, he guessed.

He found his way at the entrance to the cellar and he wasted no time before descending the stairs. They creaked and groaned with each step the god took, and he realized for the thousandth time that he should go about replacing them. He made his way to the archives, eagerly taking a deep breath in to inhale the scent of the books around him. He had always loved that smell, could recall doing nothing but flipping through pages just to get a whiff of them when he had first moved to the palace. He was not so different now.

Shiver found his oil lantern hanging from a loose nail hammered into the wall and he grabbed it by the handle, turning it on and letting the dim light illuminate what it could. Although he had read every book and file already, Shiver was not above rereading them in the utter boredom of his home. He walked to the cabinets that contained all of the records he had on people with names, aliases, and pseudonyms that started with 'S' and used a clawed finger to slide the drawer open. He held up the lantern for light and flipped through all of them, muttering a 'no' as he passed files he wasn't interested in until he came upon the one labeled 'Shiver'. He dug it out carefully, trying not to let his claws puncture a hole into the delicate, aged folder, before flipping through it. A lot of the text was illegible, having been covered with frost or plain faded into the paper, but what Shiver could make out was what he already knew, or better yet, not enough at all.

 

[ObitoPancake]

Stepping outside, Slasher noted that the air was starting to take on the crisp chill of fall despite it being early spring. The wind must have been carrying over from the neighboring tundra, as it wasn't uncommon for the weather patterns to change based upon the land to the west.

Slasher snaked his way through the trees, weaving through brush thick and thin. The forest was his home and he moved through it with ease. Hell, he knew every twig and shrub like the back of his hand.

When he had first come to rest in the forest, he spent many hours prowling around the shrubbery to hone his stealth and speed abilities. After all, they were the core of his craft. If he were unable to be stealthy, his career as an assassin for hire would be gone in an instant. And he certainly wouldn't want that.

Large puffs of breath escaped from under his mask as he trod through the brush. Pausing for a moment, Slasher took in the air around him; it was much colder than it had been when he had started on his journey that morning. He was getting closer to his target with every step. He hoisted his bag onto his shoulders to readjust it before stepping out into the tundra. An uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability washed over him as he took in the arid land before him.

Shiver was in for an unwelcome surprise.

 

[rainy]

Shiver thumbed over the pages, reading each of them for a brief moment before shutting the folder closed and putting it back into the drawer. He would have read more if it weren't for the hunger gnawing in the pit of his belly and the voice in the basest part of his brain, telling him to maim, to slaughter, to take souls. He couldn't ignore it forever like he wished he could, knowing well and from experience that starving himself would lead to an...episode, to say the least. He slid the drawer closed and hung the oil lantern up on the nail he had taken it off of before marching up the stairs.

The god walked down the winding crystal blue halls, listening to nothing but his heels click, until he found the room he was looking for. It was completely empty save for the large, rusted metal cage that sat in the middle of it, where livestock usually ran around and awaited their deaths. Usually. Shiver could feel just an ounce of cold dread pool within him as he realized that he was completely out of feed and would have to go outside in search of more. He groaned at his own stupidity; just how the hell did he forget something as important as food?

It wouldn't have been that bad if Shiver wasn't as hungry as he was. He knew that when he was starved like he was in the moment, he could very easily black out and go on a murderous rampage, losing total control over himself and laying waste to all of the tundra life around him. The other gods would not be pleased if that had happened for the second time, and Shiver sucked in a breath as he made his way for the door. Again.

He'd just have to be more careful this time, is all.