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Locksryn Vista wrote: "There are times for anger, and there are times for calm. Fighting is never a time for the former. Not for us."
I exist to describe the world around us.
Akorae - Traveling to find happiness.
Yrsa Hakondottir - returned to Ruathym
Xifali'ae - sleeping with the fishies
Keth'ym Evanara - wandering better paths
Veriel Xyrdan - married and happy
Reena Welkins - dead
There are some things communicated adjacent to words. Not in the words themselves, but in the method. In tone and expression, in the twist of lips and the clench of a larynx. Words, it seemed, were losing their usefulness in this conversation, being phased out for the meta-dialogue.
So it was not the words he said in response, the useless and pointless, "I know," that communicated what he wanted. It was the certainty in it. The recognition of what was below [her] own words. In what was beneath his. The ironclad, stolid certainty. The affection that drew it along...
...and the faith that was the foundation for it. It was a statement, plain and awkward, that would not be half as powerful anywhere else. But there, in the dwindling night, beneath the blot of starless sky that was the new moon [...], in the shadow of that [...] shrine...
...those words could say 'I am here for you, always', more than any congregation of eloquent syllables actually could. They were a promise, yes [...]. But they were also a taunt, a declaration of war to all the rest of creation. It was the hill he would die on.
× Career Sharran × MILF Supreme × Artist (Allegedly) ×
› Will Trade Art For Groceries Again Eventually ‹
I love this. Serious Steven Erikson vibesmagistrasa wrote: Fri Apr 30, 2021 3:30 pm I could write a whole novel out of the profound nonsense you people force me to read with my eyeballs. This one's kinda recent, but it stuck with me for a while.
There are some things communicated adjacent to words. Not in the words themselves, but in the method. In tone and expression, in the twist of lips and the clench of a larynx. Words, it seemed, were losing their usefulness in this conversation, being phased out for the meta-dialogue.
So it was not the words he said in response, the useless and pointless, "I know," that communicated what he wanted. It was the certainty in it. The recognition of what was below [her] own words. In what was beneath his. The ironclad, stolid certainty. The affection that drew it along...
...and the faith that was the foundation for it. It was a statement, plain and awkward, that would not be half as powerful anywhere else. But there, in the dwindling night, beneath the blot of starless sky that was the new moon [...], in the shadow of that [...] shrine...
...those words could say 'I am here for you, always', more than any congregation of eloquent syllables actually could. They were a promise, yes [...]. But they were also a taunt, a declaration of war to all the rest of creation. It was the hill he would die on.
When my character heard that in particular I'd like to say it shaped a lot of how they thought and acted going forward. A bit more careful, a bit more cunning. It only adds to the scene that I should say he was in a bathing suit."There is nothing your enemies would love more than cause you harm by hurting the one you love"
Irongron wrote:To step beyond any threshold, having left that place richer than one found it, is the finest legacy anyone can have.
Irongron wrote:With a value of 100+ one can milk chickens
This drove me to accept myself as who I am to enjoy life instead of chasing some actualised image of myself. It's easy for me to want things and to chalk up my shortcomings to unfavorable conditions. I imagine myself as someone else accomplishing the things I always wanted; but the person in these imaginations isn't a truthful version of me. I've always been shunned and small; I've always been insignificant, dreaming of a great role in the world.‘I messed up my own life,’ she told me. ‘Before I came North I made sense and so did the world. We didn’t have nothing but we didn’t miss it.’
Who ever heard of that? Living in the City was the best thing in the world. What can you do out in the country? When I visited Tuxedo, back when I was a child, even then I was bored. How many trees can you look at? That’s what I said to her. ‘How many trees can you look at? And for how long and so what?’
She said it wasn’t like that, looking at a bunch of trees. She said for me to go to 143rd Street and look at the big one on the corner and see if it was a man or a woman or a child.
I laughed but before I could agree with the hairdressers that she was crazy, she said,
‘What’s the world for if you can’t make it up the way you want it?’
‘The way I want it?’
‘Yeah. The way you want it. Don’t you want it to be something more than what it is?’
‘What’s the point? I can’t change it.’
‘That’s the point. If you don’t, it will change you and it’ll be your fault cause you let it. I let it. And messed up my life.’
‘Messed it up how?’
‘Forgot it.’
‘Forgot?’
‘Forgot it was mine. My life. I just ran up and down the streets wishing I was somebody else.’
‘Who? Who’d you want to be?’
‘Not who so much as what. White. Light. Young again.’
‘Now you don’t?’
‘Now I want to be the woman my mother didn’t stay around long enough to see. That one. The one she would have liked and the one I used to like before…. My grandmother fed me stories about a little blond child. He was a boy, but I thought of him as a girl sometimes, as a brother, sometimes as a boyfriend. He lived inside my mind. Quiet as a mole. But I didn’t know it till I got here. The two of us. Had to get rid of it.’
She talked like that. But I understood what she meant. About having another you inside that isn’t anything like you. [My friend] and I used to make up love scenes and describe them to each other. It was fun and a little smutty. Something about it bothered me, though. Not the loving stuff, but the picture I had of myself when I did it. Nothing like me. I saw myself as somebody I’d seen in a picture show or a magazine. Then it would work. If I pictured myself the way I am it seemed wrong.
‘How did you get rid of her?’
‘Killed her. Then I killed the me that killed her.’
‘Who’s left?’
‘Me.’
What really drove it home was a bit later an epic level character did see us and as they already knew my level was in the single digits from a prior encounter and the other PC only had an imp, attacked us. They were quickly decimated by Ice Storm+eldritch blast.Why should I show my hand when I can have others underestimate me and thus gain advantage over them?
- Rylie Kingsley"Pandemodidium."
Played; Echo Hemlocke-Ralkai, Joshua Colt, Namil Evanara, Elanor Shortwick, Sawyer Brook, Kaylessa Dree, Sines Oliver Selakiir, Birgitta Birdie Swordhill, Bella Weartherbee, Arael Laceflower, Corbin, Rupert Silveroak, Hadi, H'larr Twins, and others.
× Career Sharran × MILF Supreme × Artist (Allegedly) ×
› Will Trade Art For Groceries Again Eventually ‹
