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aliasvale
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"Hmm... Are you comfortable talking to me, Itsuki?"
"Not all artists make good money, Professor," They murmur with a sly expression, the hand they'd been gesturing with coming down to rest comfortably on their hip. "A credit for my thoughts, a hundred for my advice, and a thousand for my work. That'd be a dream."

last edit on Feb 19, 2024 8:57:46 GMT by vale
"hello, i'm nazuna nito, a member of ra*bits!"
art credit @ ryoko kui - dungeon meshi official art
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
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820written posts
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i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
Even her humour reminds him of swallowing acid. The sheer thought makes him tap his leg, metal tapping against the marble tiling. When she smiles, his expression only sours. Once upon a time, he wanted power (he still does). These days, he wants dominion (he suspects nothing will be enough). With her, he wants peace (but ask him if he'd relinquish all they've done for this, and Johann would sooner let the Qunari take his good leg too).



coming soon.
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
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820written posts
CELearned bits
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CEL
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i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
She's... pretty.

The Lady d'Aubray is... everything Roma's been told she would be. A lovely painting of lavenders and gemstones, impeccable manners, a smile to make any upstanding noble man go to war in her name. A woman worthy of love, as poets and playwrights and romantics and painters spend their nights and mornings bringing to life. From the first moment he's seen her face, she is easily everything he is meant to love.

And because of that, she isn't.
editing so as to not double-post

So simply, he knows — has a feeling, at least — that all this back and forth Lark commits to hides more. Suggests worse skeletons behind the closet, that she is an imperfect set of flaws and warning signs. Anastasia's had enough bards seduce him before the pointed tip of a dagger teases his back. He knows dances like these, been the player of many waltzes by now, all for the sake of becoming the one on top. But she smiles, and it could be a lie, but he'd take it all the same. Whatever he could get, however small or however far. She could point a knife to his throat and all he'd do is guide her hand to the swiftest strike.
last edit on Mar 7, 2024 17:01:18 GMT by CEL



coming soon.
aliasnao, paradisi
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so what, refrigerator?
the gears rotate from right to left; existing laws gone awry.

spin ,

whirrr !!


spin,

whirrrr !!!!!!!


spin,

WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR


whirring ,


whirring ,


whirring ---

time goes back, gravity retrogresses, entropy reverses. in his head the universe shatters into a million pieces --- crack by crack, noise by noise, image by image --- and when he falls to his knees he prays in andraste's name ( maker help him , he's not a believer ) :

in a million universes she's in

there should be a million of him, too.
hover and avatar by cin . THANKS
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aliasvale
pronounsthey/them, he/him
71written posts
valeearned bits
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vale
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"Hmm... Are you comfortable talking to me, Itsuki?"

"—You killed him. It's your fault." Repeated, once more, like a broken record, as Caprice continues to shake. It's accompanied by a pain in his head, a fog in his mind, a twisting sensation at the edges of his joints. There's something still deeply unnatural about the way he moves, certainly not in his right mind as his fingernails clench down against the gentle grip on his wrist. Digging into skin, a warning signal.

If you hadn't— if you'd waited a little longer, if you'd been normal, if you'd kept your mouth shut, there would've been two.
"hello, i'm nazuna nito, a member of ra*bits!"
art credit @ ryoko kui - dungeon meshi official art
aliasThe Moustachioed Greek
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D-d-digimon!
when they let you cook in a pokemon rp...

"In earliest recorded history, Pokémon and humans are referred to as separate tribes. Humans are the only mammal on Earth, whereas every Pokémon capable of breeding that we know of lays eggs. We don't have Moves, nor Abilities. You also can't catch another human in a Pokéball to make them your pal. Furthermore, in the oldest known myth--the Original Story--humans aren't mentioned once. However we came to be in this world, we were not created by Arceus... One theory suggests that we came from outer space!"

Said theory had been posted 10 years ago on 4chansey.org by an anonymous user, and had since circulated the internet almost as much as a certain excerpt about Vaporeon.
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not from my LAST post but i was rereading a post i wrote this month thinking "damn this was a banger"


They made the familiar trek to Lowtown—dank, overpopulated Lowtown with its pungent waste and unruly residents shrieking in the yawning void of night. How he missed it. How he will always miss it. Linus guided them to the foundry district, where the smells became rust and seawater. Salt was life, salt was fortune, salt was death. Follow the salt, and he would have his answers.
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
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i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.

posted this three days back, still think it slaps

For as long as she could remember, every image in her mind she'd painted of Adahlena came with a coat of arms, the emblem of an eternal battle. In War, Victory. In Peace, Vigilance. In Death, Sacrifice. It was the only idea that made sense to her when she was young, the only explanation to soothe the abandoned child in her heart, believing that Adahlena's existence as some great warrior from the stories would mean the hole she'd left in her sister's lifetime had meaning.




coming soon.
aliasirene
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you want it darker, we kill the flame
not a recent post, because it's actually an unpublished excerpt from a WIP doc i have on gdocs where i write random addendum drabbles in the spur of the moment; been on my mind lately, even if i don't remember the context for it lol... might recycle it in the future when it's appropriate because it's a banger. 

Diana’s spirit only has three forms. In the morning, she’s a lamb. In the afternoon, a dove. At night, a blind asbestos animal that prefers to go unseen, digs corridors in the walls: I search hard for you and I don’t find you. Or I do. I find you like a needle in a haystack: or like a coin in a well: like a heartbeat in a distant star.
aliasSola
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Tell me which you dread more ; the echo or the answer?
Silence is heavy, silence is a monster that has clawed its way into the air, sitting in between them, and waiting for them to say something to shatter it. Silence weighs heavy on his heart as he thinks of something to say that isn't entirely horrible.


Describing silence as a monster is my favorite thing to do.

Bonus! (If anyone knows what this monologue is from, I love you.) Ironically these are from the same character.

"So you know what? I spit on it. Your forgiveness, your compassion. Everything that you've offered to me out of pity.
And do you want to know why I spit on your forgiveness? To reach a hand down to somebody, they need to be beneath you. And I?
"I am beneath no one."
last edit on Apr 4, 2024 17:30:20 GMT by Sola