@shepherdiing

@shepherdiing

Testing my new drawing tab https://twitter.com/MayuiYukisaki/status/920392808539631616

nebu-hii-ejamu:

“Indeed. You failed spectacularly. But still you live on. Surely there is a reason you keep living despite these failures. Let’s say our predicaments are the same. I, myself, failed monumentally and I long for fulfillment. With the shepherd and his little dragon gone, I see an opportunity for both of us to get what we want. Again, I must request your presence in Ladylake so that we may meet face to face.”

Lunarre grit his teeth. The disembodied voice was right - in spite of everything that had happened, he was still living; still selfishly clinging onto the unfulfilled desires left in him. All the people he had known from that time were either dead or seraphim, and wholly oblivious to his continued existence. They owed him nothing, and vice versa.

What had he to lose?

Cursing under his breath, the hellion turned on his heel and began to walk back  the way he had came.

~~~

Ladylake had changed relatively little in the time since the previous Shepherd had faced off against the then Lord of Calamity, Heldalf. The famed waterwheel was still turning, its cobbled streets as lively as ever, and its shopping district, though altered in content and design, were as busy as they were when Lunarre was stealing from them.

It was almost surreal, being back. Of course, no-one recognised him as he picked his way through the crowds, but that was fine. Natural, considering the circumstances. 

Of course, some buildings had come and gone and others had crumbled into disrepair, abandoned by their previous owners. One such building was Bartlow’s mansion. 

Creeping inside - an easy feat, thanks to the sorry state of the old front door - Lunarre looked around for the owner of the voice he had heard.

“I know you’re here. Show yourself!”

Lunarre’s name written in Glenwood script.

nebu-hii-ejamu:

A seraph about Sorey’s physical age glanced out the window, sporting a shiny silver regalia with the ancient crest on it and light blond hair tipped with silver at the ends. He also had an eerie holy glow about him. “Ladylake…. There was a time where this land belonged to the ancient Midgand empire. Humans walked the streets with ancient seraphim, called malakhim at the time, fearing malevolence and turning to the Shepherd of the time…”

He turned to face Lunarre. “So, you’ve come. I bid you greetings, young hellion.”

“Save the pleasantries,” Lunarre spat. “I don’t care about any of that ancient crap.” 

This resonance emitting from the cherubic seraph was unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was immense. It was sickening, so much that it took all Lunarre’s concentration to speak without ejecting bile.

Was this a big mistake?

“What do you want from me? Why bring me here?”

Fate / El Veneno Reyes

*enter Rider's noble phantasm*

Rider: Onward to battle, my homies!

Army: *starts to cheer, but cheering dies down confusedly as they realize no enemies are present*

Soldier 1: What do you want from us, sire?

Rider: I want you to FUCK SHIT UP!

Soldier 1: ...do you want us to fight the sand? We'll never win, sir!

Rider: WHAT IS YOU TALK? YOU THINK YOU AM-- *stops to pet his horse* HMMMMM?

Soldier 1: There is LITERALLY nothing to fight!

Rider: Does that mean we won?

Soldier 1: ...yeah...sure...

Rider: ... *raises arm in victory* HUZZAH!

Army: *continues cheering*

Soldier 2: I died for that man. Very painfully did I die for him.

*exit noble phantasm*

Rider: ...

Rider: *to Gilgamesh* I ain't drinkin' your shit anymore.