No title available
Keni
styofa doing anything
pixel skylines
todays bird
wallacepolsom
oozey mess
sheepfilms
trying on a metaphor
KIROKAZE
Kaledo Art
Andulka
⁂
Origami Around
@theartofmadeline
One Nice Bug Per Day
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
d e v o n
Game of Thrones Daily
Peter Solarz
seen from France
seen from Netherlands
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Australia
seen from Australia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from Bulgaria
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seen from Türkiye
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@calthossunkeeper
Knight-Lord Ina’thia Dawnblade
Commander of the Phoenix Guard ( @phoenixguard )
Had a sketch lying around that I decided to finish <3
Ina’thia belongs to @pariker / @inathia
Reblog from art account
Love it, Syrie! You make Ina look so awesome. <3
*Really wishes Syrie would draw Calthos...* ;-;
What’s my reputation in the Roleplaying Community?
Tell me on anon or not.
THIS IS THE TIGHTEST SHIT IVE EVER SEEN
REBLOG FOR CARRIE
For Calthos
Keep reading
The Doctor looks at the device and smiled, feeling a sense of affection toward the priestess. He would have to get her something in return for this generous gift, but what? ((Thank you so much, Kena! This really made me smile and chuckle!)) @kenasilverbrook
A little Surgery
The warlock stood in quiet contemplation over the body of a dead Withered that lay upon his examination table. It was not Rocky, thank the Light, for Rocky had proven to be tenacious and loyal. The serums and the shock therapy had done their work and Rocky had learned to be docile and quiet, yielding to Calthos as would a dog to its master. But this Withered was freshly dead, brought in by another of his minions moments before. The scalpel sliced with such precision, which gave Calthos goosebumps as the slicing of flesh always did. He smiles softly as he began to peel back the layers of skin and muscle, whatever was left of that, anyway, and adjusted his goggles. "You were elves once," he said to himself, "But what happened to you? How did you become what you are...?" His hands reached into the chest cavity and he began to dictate notes to his succubus who wrote them down sulkily, unable to hide her jealously that her master was more interested in a corpse than her. "Removing the lungs...Removing the liver...all organs seem healthy and functioning, despite a shrinking in size due probably to the withering process. Cause of withering still yet unknown." He pulled his goggles up after removing his blood-covered gloves and looked at the face. "I wonder how old you were...what your name was...Did You have ambitions? A family? What was your name...?" As he spoke, he began inspecting the face of the creature. "Teeth remain in tact, but have developed into fang-like points, probably used for tearing the flesh from anything it can get its hands on. Eyes are milky white and pupil-less, yet clearly they can see as they fight. The nose has receded into its face, leaving little of the cartilage that were there. Beginning preparations for examination of its brain," he said, reaching down under the table and pulling out a mechanical saw which he used to cut the skull open carefully. A sickening, sucking sown was heard as he pulled the skull cap off and used his scalpel to slice open the sac that covered the brain. "Brain is smooth...seems to have degenerated from where it was. How can that be, though? Removing the brain," he said as he reached in and prized the brain from the skull with another sucking noise. Holding it aloft, he examined it carefully. "Completely smooth..." To Be Continued... @inathia @syrielle @sybil-galeshatter @kenasilverbrook @euphroleplays @ronaestrider
Archetype
your archetype is the warrior.
traits: purposeful, adaptable, loyal, agressive, mindful, decisive, skillful, isolated, destroyer
the warrior is most commonly used to symbolize the victory of a war. raised in the image of their trainer, and at most times, their parental figure, the connection that is fundamental in building relationships is extremely weak. although warriors find it difficult to trust, once they do, it is a bind that lasts until death. while warriors are fiercely loyal, they are extremely wary of strangers. their greatest wish is to be credited in their achievements, and they tend to isolate themselves if they aren’t validated, taking things personally. warriors tend to things for the greater good, and destroy to protect.
fictional characters that are warriors: arya stark, indiana jones, lisbeth salander, sirius black
other personality types that go with this: athena, ares, achilles, wampus
https://www.qzzr.com/c/quiz/313907/the-archetype-quiz Tagging: @inathia @ronaestrider @syrielle @arosesrambles @kenasilverbrook @deylivia @hylaudius @euphie-rants @phoenixguard @astranaar @sybil-galeshatter @feliciadawnstar @korivalthedarkone
Send my muse an anonymous note with your muse’s feelings towards them. My muse has to guess whom the note is from.
This'll be hard cause most people hate him.
👀 Who does he fantasize about the most?
Hmm, that's an interesting question. Well, to be perfectly frank, himself, if we're not talking sexually. If it has to be another person, I would have to say his first wife, Minjou. He sees her face whenever he has to make a hard decision because it was a hard decision that killed her and their son. And Cal has had to make a lot of hard decisions lately.
Send my muse “👀 + a question” and they’ll have to answer with 100% honesty.
No deleting questions, either!
Awakening
Vaenama reached out in the darkness that had overtaken her for so long, searching for something, anything. She parted her lips, crying out to the dark nothingness. She had been doing this for what seemed to be an eternity, never growing weary and yet never slipping away. There had been no nightmares for so long, there had been nothing.
She continued to run in the darkness, her soundless cries failing to aid her. She had no sense of direction, no sense of movement but she had to keep trying. Something had happened– but what? Vaenama attempted to call on her memories and failed to. What was her name? Why was she here? What was she? Why was she trying to get out?
In that same instant the darkness was gone, blinding light overwhelmed her as her memories rushed back. She was Vaenama and she had endured the Broken Shore.
“I need to open my eyes.”
The women who had remained still for so long spoke, her voice hoarse, attracting the attention of her caretakers.
Vaenama’s eyes flew open, obeying her own command. She blinked, being blinded by the brilliance of the waking world.
The nightmare was over.
@calthossunkeeper
Calthos was standing amid the Phoenix Guard encampment at Aszuna, staring through a spyglass at the milling ghosts while his eye piece magically linked to his eye of Kil'rogg, which milled about the demon-controlled area behind them undetected. It took a great deal of concentration to split his attention in such a way, but the sorcerer was up to the challenge.
All of a sudden, his attention snapped back to his here and now as he received a tug on his pant leg. Dismissing his eye and looking down, he witnessed an imp materialize from its invisibility and handed him a note, then vanished quickly again. Looking around to make sure no one else had seen the imp, he straightened and made to read the note once satisfied.
‘Lord Sunkeeper, she it awake. Lady Sunkeeper has awakened and is well. If you will remember, you instructed us to write as soon as she opened her eyes. She has many questions and we are trying to keep her resting, but it is becoming difficult, as you may imagine. We await further instructions. Sincerely yours, Haelan Greenbow.’
Calthos read and reread the letter, inhaling deeply. He needed to go, and quickly. To the portal he strode, waving off the golem guards as they asked for identification and through the portal to the Isle of Quel'danas. From there, he caught a dragonhawk and was soon in the air to his humble estate, opening a hole in the protective wards magically.
The large heavy doors were swung open at his touch and he walked quickly to his wife, waving off the foolish sputtering caretaker Haelan who complained of not being given notice so he could have had refreshments prepared. Opening the door, he looked to his wife and all resolution had left him. His pale face was one of awe, and his eyes glittered as he saw her face.
“Vae, my love…welcome back.”
Vaenama’s eyes had been closed, her lips pressed into a thin line as she strained her weakened muscles. She wanted to sit up but lacked the strength and energy to do so.
How long have I been like this? Weeks? Months?
Calthos…?
The man burst into the room just as his name crossed her mind, her eyes shooting open. Fel green orbs that once blazed brilliantly were now duller and weaker in appearance. The coma had taken its toll on her strength. It had sapped her of basic functions, of the basic strength she needed to function on her own. This irritated her.
“Calthos?” Her voice was hoarse.
@calthossunkeeper
He knelt by the bed and poured some water from a pitcher into a cup for her, holding it to her lips gently and said, “Drink. Slowly now, slowly..” His voice was so soft and gentle, and once she had drank the water, cupped her cheek softly and smiled. His palm was warm, and he whispered, “I thought I had lost you...” He leaned in and kisses her forehead softly. “Take some of my strength.” He pulled out a small knife and removed one of his gloves, about to cut his own palm.
From this close up, she would notice the etchings of magic th the right side of his once flawless face as well as the progression of his tattoos onto the back of his hand.
Awakening
Vaenama reached out in the darkness that had overtaken her for so long, searching for something, anything. She parted her lips, crying out to the dark nothingness. She had been doing this for what seemed to be an eternity, never growing weary and yet never slipping away. There had been no nightmares for so long, there had been nothing.
She continued to run in the darkness, her soundless cries failing to aid her. She had no sense of direction, no sense of movement but she had to keep trying. Something had happened– but what? Vaenama attempted to call on her memories and failed to. What was her name? Why was she here? What was she? Why was she trying to get out?
In that same instant the darkness was gone, blinding light overwhelmed her as her memories rushed back. She was Vaenama and she had endured the Broken Shore.
“I need to open my eyes.”
The women who had remained still for so long spoke, her voice hoarse, attracting the attention of her caretakers.
Vaenama’s eyes flew open, obeying her own command. She blinked, being blinded by the brilliance of the waking world.
The nightmare was over.
@calthossunkeeper
Calthos was standing amid the Phoenix Guard encampment at Aszuna, staring through a spyglass at the milling ghosts while his eye piece magically linked to his eye of Kil'rogg, which milled about the demon-controlled area behind them undetected. It took a great deal of concentration to split his attention in such a way, but the sorcerer was up to the challenge.
All of a sudden, his attention snapped back to his here and now as he received a tug on his pant leg. Dismissing his eye and looking down, he witnessed an imp materialize from its invisibility and handed him a note, then vanished quickly again. Looking around to make sure no one else had seen the imp, he straightened and made to read the note once satisfied.
‘Lord Sunkeeper, she it awake. Lady Sunkeeper has awakened and is well. If you will remember, you instructed us to write as soon as she opened her eyes. She has many questions and we are trying to keep her resting, but it is becoming difficult, as you may imagine. We await further instructions. Sincerely yours, Haelan Greenbow.’
Calthos read and reread the letter, inhaling deeply. He needed to go, and quickly. To the portal he strode, waving off the golem guards as they asked for identification and through the portal to the Isle of Quel'danas. From there, he caught a dragonhawk and was soon in the air to his humble estate, opening a hole in the protective wards magically.
The large heavy doors were swung open at his touch and he walked quickly to his wife, waving off the foolish sputtering caretaker Haelan who complained of not being given notice so he could have had refreshments prepared. Opening the door, he looked to his wife and all resolution had left him. His pale face was one of awe, and his eyes glittered as he saw her face.
“Vae, my love…welcome back.”
The Return
“We are sorry, Lord Sunkeeper, but with your track record, we of the Tirisguard are simply not comfortable allowing you among our ranks. It is for these reasons that we deny your application and sincerely thank you for your interest,” said the mage representative at the bottom of the Violet Hold to Calthos. “Please, have a nice day.” With that, he vanished and left the scarred and angry archmage standing in silence and shock.
Calthos began to leave the Violet Hold, keeping his cloak pulled tightly about him and his cowl down low to keep his horrifically scarred face away from the sight of passersby. His steps were slow and measured, as if he were waiting, hoping that there had been a mistake and that the Kirin Tor representative would appear again to admit him. He could not believe this turn of events.
“Your track record...They are afraid. Afraid that you will not be able to control yourself when confronted with fel magic--That you will corrupt other mages the way you were corrupted. But the Naaru...Didn’t it say you were cleansed? That no soul is too black?” His thoughts raced as he exited the tower and began descending the steps. “But your tattoos are not gone. Your thirst is still there. You want more power, and you know the arcane will fall before the Legion. But their magics...” He let the thought trail away as he took the last step and stood on the street corner.
“And they way he looked at me...like a grotesque. I should be in the Darkmoon Faire. He treated me like I am some monster.” Looking about, he saw others stepping clear of him. They even went so far as to cross the street as to not walk near him. “Maybe they are right to fear me. Maybe I am not fit to be here any longer...” he rasped quietly.
“You are wrong, there, Sunkeeper,” said a dark, harsh voice. Calthos looked about to see an orc striding up to him from the entrance to the underbelly. The orc was dressed in crimson robes and his tall collar seemed to be alight with green fire. His eyes were alight with malevolence and his mouth turned to a deep frown. “You were useful when you were among our coven. Once you went to Draenor and let the Phoenix Guard change you, you became weak.”
“Ritssyn Flamescowl? What is it you want? I heard after Kanrethad fell, the rest of the coven went with him.” Calthos studied the orc and then said, “Let’s go to the Underbelly. This is no place for us to discuss such matter.” Together, they made their way back to the sewers and Flamescowl rounded on Calthos.
“Kanrethad was a fool and got what he deserved. I lead the Council now, and we are gathering the coven again. We would do well to have you among our ranks once more. Someone who can show your Phoenix Guard that there is nothing to fear from using fel magic.”
“I am of no fit state to return to you.” He pulled back his cowl and showed the orc the horror beneath. Flamescowl snorted and laughed, shaking his head.
“You think that disturbs me? You know Shinfel Blightsworn, yes? She’s in far worse shape than you. Look, Sunkeeper, I know your tattoos are still in tact. They protected your body from the fel blast you received. You and I both know that they are no mere ink; they are your contract. Come back to the Black Harvest and we will welcome you with open arms. We are not afraid of you, as the Kirin Tor are. We respect your abilities. We may even be able to help you with...that.” He pointed to Cal’s face.
Calthos studied the orc again, then said softly, “You have my attention.” Together, the two descended into the bowels of Dalaran to discuss further.
The Broken Shore
His badge of service had given him the call: The Sunreavers were gathering in support of the Horde. Calthos has donned his armor and tabard while choosing which staff to bring with him. He stared at the weapons rack in his private office, but his mind was not truly on the choice at hand.
“The Legion returns. All Sunreaver soldiers are called to aid in the counter attack upon the Broken Shore. Teleport to Archmage Aethas’ location as soon as possible.”
The message echoed in Cal’s mind as he stared at his staves. He had known that this day was coming. He had told Ina’thia of the message he had extracted from the demons he had tortured. “We are Legion, and we are coming.” He felt ill prepared even now, with no way to control the demons they would be facing. Sighing, he took up one of his more powerful staves and made to find Vae. A note scrawled in her elegant handwriting told him what he knew: she had gone already. He sighed and folded the note, kissing it and stowing in a breast pocket.
“I will find you, my love, and we will protect one another.” With that, he teleported from his home to where Aethas’ beacon was set to meet the rest of the Sunreaver forces. The ships awaited, and Calthos took his spot as befit his rank as a Sunreaver Archmage along with the other minor officers.
“Magi of the Sunreavers; of the Sin’dorei! Make your preparations! Enchant yourselves and the forces of the Horde! We set sail soon!” called out Aethas. Cal nodded to the other archmages and set about working their spells in tandem with the other mages of the Horde.
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Cut to the Broken Shore
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There is was: The Tomb of Sargeras. Calthos stared at the shore and the beacon of fel magic in astonishment. Mouth slightly agape, he flexed his fingers and whispered a prayer to the Light. He was never an overly religious man, but his oldest brother had been a priest, and he felt he could use all the help he could get.
A blast was head from above, and in horror Calthos watched as the alliance gunship and horde war zepplin collided and went down, only to hear the voice of King Varian cry out, “For Azeroth!” moments later. It was time.
The Sunreavers landed on the shore and blasts of arcane, fire, and frost magic burst out from the ship over the heads of the foot soldiers and into the Legion ranks. The mages came on strong, attacking again and again, yet the Legion soldiers kept coming. Cal wove his hands and began bringing up defenses around the soldiers who were fighting face-to-face with the demons along with the other mages around him.
He spotted her then: Vaenama Sunkeeper, his wife. She was fighting valiantly, weaving her curses and draning demons of their own fel energies, only to throw them back on other demons. He broke rank, to the shouts disapproval from his own superior officers, but this was his wife. He had to reach her.
There was a FLASH in the sky and suddenly an over-sized abyssal was careening through the sky toward where she was fighting. Calthos shouted, “NO!” and used the magic sustaining his own shields to protect her. At the last moment, she saw the shields and looked in his direction. “Calthos!” she shouted, not in relief, but in horror as Calthos was left vulnerable. “I love you!” he tried to shout, but the noise of the battle drowned out his cry.
That was when the abyssal hit the ground. It threw those around it aside as it crashed in a heap of fel fire and broken earth, sending the protected Vae flying away to hit her head against the rocks and was knocked unconscious. Cal was throw back, but not before he was washed in fel flamed, trying to shield himself and turn away, the flames ignited his right side, burning at his hair and charring his flesh. He shrieked in pain and tried to put it out, but it was different. The flames were persistent and he fell to the ground, writhing in agony.
The horn for retreat was sounded.
“Get Sunkeeper! Bring him back, quickly! We must fall back!” called one of the higher officers of the Sunreavers as the Horde retreated. Cal was already unconscious by this time and was easily teleported to safety, but the damage had been done.
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Cut to an infirmary within Silvermoon.
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What was going on? Who were those voices speaking over him? Where was he? He remember the abyssal, and then nothing. Why was only one eye shut, while the right eye stared at a moist linen cloth? All these questions seemed to run through his mind and then panic.
“V-Vaenama...” he said weakly, his voice hoarse and raspy. His throat was on fire.
“Priestess! The archmage is awake!” said one of the voices.
“W-Where am I? What’s happened?”” He was groggy, and trying to wake himself up. “Where is Vaenama? Vaenama Sunkeeper!” He was hysterical, and hands were placed on his shoulders to push him back to his bed. “No! Let me up! I have to--”
“Archmage Sunkeeper, you are in a Sunreaver recovery unit. You must lay back and rest. Lady Sunkeeper is alive. She is unconscious, but is otherwise fine. You are in much worse shape, I am afraid.”
“Let me see.”
“I don’t think right now is--”
“LET ME SEE!” he shouted in that harsh voice, his throat on fire. The nurses hesitated, but then brought him a hand mirror. He stared at himself; his hair was gone, and the right side of his face--nay, his head-- was covered in bandages. “I...I remember...”
“We did all we could do, but this fel magic is stronger than we are able to heal. I am afraid that we could not--”
“Show me. Show me what is under these bandages before I rip them off myself.” The nurses and priestess made no move, so Calthos began tearing at the bandages. Cries of outrage and protest ran up with arms trying to hold him down, but some new found strength allowed his ti throw them off. And suddenly he was staring himself full in the face in the mirror.
The right half of his face was completely black and raw with lines of fel spidering about his charred flesh. His ear was mostly gone, and a hole in his cheek showed his teeth beneath. His eye was lidless, and he realized why the moistened bandage had been placed over it. His eye quickly began drying, and his other eye welled up with tears as he threw the mirror and covered his face with his hands, shaking and thrashing in despair. The world soon went black again as he was sedated and fell back to unconscious sleep.
this is qwilfish, a generation 2 pokemon
im just posting this to say, i have never, in my entire life, seen anyone acknowledge its existence.
not only have i never seen fanart of qwilfish, ive absolutely never seen it mentioned in any kind of pokemon discussion, ever
good
I had a friend who honest to god IV bred and trained several Qwilfish. He didn’t tell anyone about them, you found out because he’d suddenly pull out the Qwilfish team against you when you didn’t expect it.
And every single one of them knew Explosion. All of his Qwilfish were IV bred and EV trained for speed and max damage, they all held choice scarf, and his entire gameplan was to trade KOs with exploding Qwilfish. Their names were ‘So’, ‘I’, ‘herd’, ‘u’, and ‘liek’. The man was an avid mudkip fanatic at the time that joke was relevant, so here you are expecting his last pokemon to be a Mudkip or a Swampert, but no. It’s a Snorlax. Who’s name was ‘QWILFISH’ And his plan from that point out was to stall for ages with Rest, Yawn and Giga Impact. Slowly whittle away at your hitpoints while putting you to sleep with him and retaining his massive HP pool with rest and leftovers. Oh, and just in case you were wondering, this was Gen 4, when the R4 was rampant and everyone knew someone with one, so pokemon with moves they shouldn’t know was pretty common. So once you were down to your last pokemon and on your last legs… His Snorlax also knew Explosion. 250 base damage + stab.
That man was a treasure.
I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying, but this sounds epic and I’m reblogging this for my Pokemon-savvy friends.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
Spark
Syrielle focused, taking in a deep breath and holding it for a moment before slowly letting it out. She sat alone in her training room, trying to meditate on her fire training. The Phoenix Guard’s findings in Deadwind Pass, specifically Karazhan, had been immensely disturbing. She frowned, remembering the heat of the fire that had erupted from the ground around her. They had all managed to escape, regrouping and returning with a stronger force. In the end, the battle had been won against the group of rogue Kirin Tor, but it had been an alarming reminder of why she had to keep her skills sharp.
Her frustration over being unable to conjure a flame continued to grow with every failed attempt. And for the past month, every time she had attempted to meditate on the subject, all she could seem to do was go over her recent interactions with Caedius. It wasn’t surprising, given the importance of what was happening between them. The very thought of him was comforting, leaving her to feel warm and happy. Not only that, but the man seemed to have a connection of some sort to fire itself.
‘The only person on Azeroth who can make me enjoy the heat…’ she thought to herself.
“You’re stuck with me a little longer.“
"I think you’re the one stuck with me, Syrie.”
She rested her cheek on his back, smiling, “I think I can live with that.”
“You’d be the only one who could.”
“If you’ll have me…”
Fire and Ice. Syrielle and Caedius complimented each other… the piece of her that was missing…
She brought her hands up in front of her, looking down in concentration. Her eyes flared with the arcane as energy built up between her palms, giving off a rising heat but, as usual, there was no flame. How often had she been here? How long had she worked at trying to find that extra bit of magic that would make it all work? Calthos told her she had the energy required…
“It just needs… a little spark.”
Her mentor’s words caused her ears to perk up some as she went over their lessons. Fire was more than the burning destruction she feared. She thought of the sun, and the life and happiness it brought. Warmth as a source of comfort…
…and once more, her thoughts wandered to the blacksmith, of the forge, the warmth of his body pressed to hers. This time though, instead of forcing her thoughts back to the task at hand, she allowed the memories to flow.
She cupped her hands together, as though she were holding a fragile butterfly trapped between her fingers. Another breath, another exhale.
Caedius smiled brightly, nuzzling his face in her hair as his hands moved to her hips.
“I love you, Syrie,” he said rather affectionately.
Syrielle pulled her head back and looked up at him, smiling fully and happily at his words.
“I love you too”, she replied, a hand moving through his hair before she pushed herself up to press her lips to his.
It felt like a flutter of wings within her palms and, for once, she wasn’t afraid.
Fire was life…
Syrielle smiled, eyes wide as she opened her hands to behold a small flame, dancing and shining bright.
Fire was love.. and love was alive.
—————————————————-
((Flashbacks taken from RP logs between myself, @thisisforoursins and @calthossunkeeper ))
Bravo!
Oz the Great and Powerful Main Theme composed by Danny Elfman.
This song makes me think of Calthos.
I remember who I used to be before I became who I had to be to survive.
justoutherepoeting (via raisedbetter)
