Purple Bloods Homestuck の小説・ストーリー

"Will it hurt me?" "No," Rhye assured, looking encouragingly perturbed at the thought of her in pain. Joseph smirked. That’s right, big brother. Fall a little further. He thought. "Okay. Do it," she murmured. For just a moment, Rhye’s face showed surprise at the trust she was putting in him, and then his eyes brightened as he whispered the incantation under his breath. They changed until they were no longer a dull, human blue but a vivid cerulean with a sunburst of fiery orange encircling the pupil, a mark of his pureblood lineage and proof he was the first-born of the Moonlight pack.

“He dead? We better start moving.” “Not that Brad,” the other replied. “Look at your hands.” Brad stared down at his hands and then he saw it. The blood from the punch he had given Xavier was all over his hand and clothes. But that was not the problem. The blood was not red as expected. It was black. Shining black. “What does this mean,” he turned to the other two boys. “I’m not sure,” one said standing up. “But I’ve heard stories.” “What stories?” Brad asked, eyeing him.

"So you are doing more than binding with one method correct?" "Yes." Ren activated the Formations together. The Reap System kept watch on the surroundings to make sure know one would try an strike during the process. "A drop of the blood from my body. A drop of spiritual blood from my soul. The last a drop of mental blood congealed from pure mental cultivation. Not actually containing a part of my mind." The blood from his body contained a slight purple tint to it. The purple was from the Ion Energy from the people he treated previously.

I’m not one to judge other people’s culture, but this is strange. “Get on the couch, Caroline,” she urges gently, and I do just that. I lay on the couch, belly exposed and looked straight at the ceiling. Salvatore stays close. One of the … nurses takes a drop of my blood. I watch as she takes a drop of Seb’s blood, too, and hands it to Belle, who prays again. Curiously, I watch as our merged blood in the vial starts to turn amber. My heart races because the blood seems to be moving.

Sybilla extended hers, eyes locked on mine. One by one, I made the cuts. Ethan’s blood flowed first—deep red with a shadow of black around the edges. Mine followed—brighter, almost golden. When the blade touched Sybilla’s skin, her blood spilled like molten ink, glowing violet in the dim light. Drop by drop, it fell into the stone bowl at the center. Three colors. Three souls. The bowl began to tremble. --- The floor beneath us rumbled. The spirits’ chanting shifted into screaming. The air flashed with violet and crimson light. Sybilla’s voice cracked through it all.

But underneath that beauty was something cruel. ‘So the Pureblood beings can live longer as humans?” I said quietly. Maureen didn’t answer, but I could feel her agreement. It was a quiet pulse in the back of my mind, and full of restrained rage. The spiritual water wasn’t some miracle cure for drunkenness. It was put there to eradicate half-bloods like me. I stared at the basin one last time, then turned away. The shine of it followed me as though it was still waiting for me to turn my back and drink it foolishly.

No matter what, he’s the last person I’m meant to consider attractive. I grabbed his arm to cover it up with the blanket but I paused abruptly noticing this weird color on the vein in his hand. I thought veins were usually green in color, why was his purple? Drawing my attention back to his face, I noticed how pale he was for real and I moved to the other side of the bed to check out his other arm, and the veins in his hand were purple as well. “Oh my God” I gasped, dropping his arm out of shock and covering my mouth. I moved close, reaching for his face and opening his eyes and the veins in his eyes were purple as well, and that was when I knew that things had just gotten a little too serio

she said with a shrug, retrieving a curved silver dagger etched with runes. Cameron hovered his hand over the pot. Opal made a swift cut across his palm, and his blood dripped into the brew with a hiss and sizzle. DJ winced. Falcon looked away. When she had squeezed enough blood from him, Cameron bandaged his hand silently. That's when he noticed something strange, both Lazarus and young Nigel had similar bandages on their palms. They had already given their blood, he realized. The cauldron let out a loud pop. The mixture inside was no longer liquid; it had thickened into a swirling, purple mist that hovered just above the rim like a living cloud.

He bows, “I'll be outside, My Queen.” “Can I get you anything?” Fiona asks just as I make myself comfortable on her couch. I shake my head and gesture with a hand towards the chair opposite of me. She sits. “How did you know I'm a blueblood?” She doesn't seem perturbed by the question, rather intrigued. “When I collected a blood sample the last time you went under heat. I ran a few tests, checked the archive, and a few weeks later..it's only a mixed werewolf that can be a blueblood. It happens once in the last fifty years.”

I owed it to him to make things right. The lightbulb finally clicked on in my head—animal blood wasn't gonna cut it. Vivaldi was in too deep, and he needed the good stuff: human blood…or maybe my own. I’m a pureblood, which basically means my blood’s like a fancy, top-shelf elixir. My master once used it to heal other supernaturals, but I’d never tried it myself. Still, it was worth a shot.