Knight of Fire

The Fire Called. I answered. ((Indie OC RP blog. Semi-selective. May be NSFW. Mun and muse both 21+.))

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((So. I’m back. Sort of.

((So, a bit of an explanation is in order. Around July of last year, I sort of had to take a bit of a break from Tumblr. My Isaac muse was fading and, to put it bluntly, hanging out with you lovely people was not worth the hassle of dealing with this site and its...everything, really. So I decided I was going to take a break.

((Here I am a year later. My Isaac muse is back, and my desire to write him again has finally eclipsed the absolute disgust I feel for this site. So I made a new blog for Isaac, just to keep things clean. This is not a reset; everything that happened on this blog (which is now an archive) still happened. I’ve just made a few overhauls is all. I’m going to drop any threads I’ve got going, I’m sorry to say; a year long break is just too much for me to pick up on.

((I’ve also got a proper, full-time job now, so I’ve got even less time to write. But I am back, so if you’re interested in writing with me again, or you just missed my cinnamon toast son, or whatever, I’ll see you over on the new blog.

Cheers,

Dave))

[wordsnquotes]

Almost dead yesterday, maybe dead tomorrow, but alive, gloriously alive, today.

Robert Jordan (via wolfxbrother)

[winedrunklovers]

sometimes it physically pains me to hold back my sarcastic comments 

[fierysuggestion]

you cannot make fire feel afraid

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what do you have in your pockets right now?

“All of ‘em? Lessee...

“About six lighters of varying types, couple a’ matchbooks, three and a half granola bars, sixty-three dollars and twelve cents, a bus token from Boston, a roll of blue duct-tape, three folding knives, a smallish sort of Bowie knife, couple scraps of newspaper, some strips of cloth I tore from...a pillowcase, I think?

“And two glass vodka bottles filled with home-made napalm.”

[kieraknightley]

[unfluencer-deactivated20250119]

Lights Out (2016)

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((About half the draftsbox cleared out, going to try to get the rest tomorrow!))

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When the pizza arrived, Isaac wasted no time in grabbing a pair of slices for himself. Or in stuffing half of one of those slices in his mouth. He nodded, not about to talk around his food. That would be rude, after all.

“Yeah,” he said after swallowing. “I make sure running’s always an option.” Wasn’t the most courageous thing, but there was a fine line between bravery and stupidity. And Isaac wasn’t usually stupid.

“…Three years,” he admitted after a second. “And if I’m being honest it’s probably a small miracle I’ve survived that long. People in my line of work? We, uh, we don’t tend to live that long.”

[miczariel-deactivated20240917]

Mic didn’t care about rudeness - it was only muscle memory that kept her from chewing with her mouth open - but she did raise an eyebrow at the way he grabbed for the food. He was hungry and she decided that she did the right thing sharing her food. She hated doing the right thing. 

“That’s good. Smart. I don’t like to run but I will if I have to. There’s no point in some bullshit heroic death when you can live and come back,” she said, grabbing another slice of pizza.

“What’s your job? It sounds–” Similar to her old job, if she was honest. Not that she was going to say as much to him. “Yeah, dangerous. Well, at least you’re still alive for now. Piece of advice, though? Don’t go asking strange demons to help with body disposal. Next time it won’t end as well for you.”

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The second half of the first slice didn’t survive the first half by very long. Okay, so maybe he was the tiniest bit hungry. But he was always hungry; a furnace never complained about having eaten too much, no matter how many logs of wood or pieces of coal were shoved into it. Sure, he would’ve been fine with rat. Again. But he wasn’t going to say no to pizza.

“I’m a Knight,” Isaac said plainly, as if that explained everything. Given the circles he usually ran in, it usually did. “And it is. Dangerous, I mean. And in my defense, I don’t usually ask people for help with disposing of bodies, demons least of all. Not something I make a habit of.”

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Bull in a China Shop

[icecrewinthehizzouse]

Fist’s only response to the…er…struggle of his current victim was one raised eyebrow as he continued to watch, carefully altering his stance to make sure his knees and shins wouldn’t get in the way of any wild kicks. Once the other two had joined him, however, he turned his attention down to Ice, passively watching the beginning of the back-and-forth as he maintained his grip on Isaac.

Ice opened his mouth to make a comeback, only to pause mid-breath. “…Locus?”

Cobra blinked at the term and glanced over to mouth “Who’s Pyrus?” at Fist, who gave a slight shrug in return.

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Isaac grit his teeth and mentally ran down his list of options. Heel to the groin? Possible, but these three gents had kept things mostly gentlemanl- who was Isaac kidding, he’d do it in a heartbeat but something told him this wasn’t the trio’s first street-fight. He could maybe slam the back of his head into the big one’s face, break his nose... if he didn’t break his spine in the process.

He didn’t do either of those things. Instead, he scoffed. It was an ugly, short sound, full of derision and maybe a little bit of scorn. “Come on. Don’t play dumb,” he barked. “You-” He stopped, thinking. The way they spoke had a tone to it, almost like they hadn’t expected him to be here. They were here for a prize. Pages would’ve been expecting something.

“You’re... you’re not playing. Oh. Oh shit.” He exhaled deeply, his skin slowly growing ever-hotter. Maybe that would loosen the big guy’s grip.

“Okay, the four of us have to get moving before the people who actually protect this joint realize we’re here.” And given the noise that knocking over the shelf had made, they probably already did.

[nishitki-deactivated20161220]

    The ghoul would not have cared much for the cold if he was wearing more than just the café’s uniform. He could have layered his clothing, but he saw no reason to when he worked in a place that was practically emitted heat from everywhere. Instead, bundling up with a jacket and thick coat was enough for him to bear the harsh winter’s weather. Luckily today there was no snow falling from the sky, but the wind was brutal to compensate. Every year the winter seemed to be worse just like the conditions of the twentieth ward. 

    Not that the new guy would know that. He obviously was not from the area just by the way he carried himself. The twentieth ward was not a popular tourist site, especially with crime on the rise – and not just the typical gang wars or a sloppy ghoul, but something that was much bigger and grander. Muttering obscenities to himself, he picked up the next ceramic mug out of the pile in the bin, drying it off and placing it with the rest on a shelf. Throwing the rag onto the newly washed mugs, he moved toward the counter, placing a hand on its surface and leaning forward slightly. 

    “Forget it – just make my job a little easier and tell me what you want. The coffee’s the best thing here, though the deserts aren’t so bad.” Or so he’s heard from other customers who liked a little company with their meal. 

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“Coffee will be fine,” Isaac responded, perhaps a hair too quickly. He was still trying (and mostly failing) to drone out Pyrus’ chattering about the virtues of a drink Isaac couldn’t even enjoy like he used to. Something about having a literal furnace for a stomach made caffeine useless as a pick-me-up. Still, at least he could drink it without literally scalding his mouth.

“Just, a small coffee. Black, if you don’t mind.” The Knight took a seat, and couldn’t help but think about how out-of-place he probably looked. Here he was, basically a dumb American tourist (strike one) in a part of Tokyo that dumb American tourists probably didn’t visit that often (strike two) and trying to just have a coffee he didn’t even really want (strike three, you’re out). To top things off, he didn’t speak a word of Japanese (strike four, get off the fucking plate).

“So, uh... Been working here long?” Even his small-talk was terrible (strike five, do you even know how to play).

[thevirginlioness]

Does the sun ask itself, “Am I good? Am I worthwhile? Is there enough of me?” No, it burns and it shines. Does the sun ask itself, “What does the moon think of me? How does Mars feel about me today?” No it burns, it shines. Does the sun ask itself, “Am I as big as other suns in other galaxies?” No, it burns, it shines.

Andrea Dworkin, Our blood: prophecies and discourses on sexual politics (1976)

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((I’m screaming because I have 7 drafts in my box, I owe a starter, and trying to muster up the drive to write lately has been like yanking my fingernails out with my teeth.

((Still around, though. And I’m going to try yet again to plow through these drafts tonight. Thanks for being patient with me, guys.))

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Could kill you, but is still a cinnamon roll

((That’s basically Issac in a nutshell.))

[musingsnmemesforhire]

Put which one from the Cinnamon Roll meme my muse is:

[littlebadger]

musingsnmemesforhire:

Beautiful Cinnamon Roll Too Good For This World, Too Pure

Looks like they could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll

Looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you

Looks like a cinnamon roll and is actually a cinnamon roll

Looks like they could kill you and could actually kill you

Could kill you, but is still a cinnamon roll

Would kill for a cinnamon roll

Sinnamon roll

[bitchuser]

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((Six drafts and one owed starter. Hnnnnnnnng I need to get off my ass and write))