be the ember.

the wolf is aflame , crown held in her jaws .

[exseele]

i’m actually gonna be working on a grimnir blog that i intend ( keyword is intend ) to be pretty active and less selective. i’ll drop a link later when i’m done. ✌️

[exseele]

wingwaltz‌:

          “ got it! ” narmaya turns back to her task with vigor, but with it underlies a feeling that makes her fingers shake slightly as she pours the water into the cup. percival is a noble from wales, bearing a title high enough to take command of an entire army should she find the need to do so; this leaves narmaya with the urge to make things with perfection lest she be deemed useless by the first person she wants to serve in kind, regardless of the knowledge that percival may be strict but not cruel.

this, along with the plethora of issues that surfaced in the wake of her newfound freedom, makes her heart beat like the wings of a bird pursued. how did i go from wanting to please my uncle to wanting to please a crew mate instead? 

one step at a time, narmaya, she reminds herself. a person can’t change overnight.

with anxiety firing her nerves into overdrive, she places two cups of tea before percival and herself then settles down on the chair across from the knight. “ i-i’m not sure if it’s on par with what you usually drink in the morning but… i hope it’s to your liking. ”

     the aroma alone is comforting, and she takes a moment to stare into the depths of the cup. despite narmaya’s anxieties, her brows do not furrow any further, and perceptive eyes could see the corner of her mouth twitch — the beginnings of a smirk all too familiar to those that knew her. ‘ it is fine. ’ there’s little pause before she brings the steaming cup to her lips; little regard for how it might burn others less attuned to fire than she.

     ‘ — mm. ’ a low, yet distinctly content noise. for all the nobility that ran in her veins, it appears she is not too picky with tea so long it was piping hot. ‘ i like it well enough. ’ her praise, as slight as it seems, is genuine and further punctuated by another sip, ever appreciative of how the warmth spreads throughout her. when in flight, the grandcypher could be so frustratingly cold.

     eventually her eyes drift from the dark drink to the woman that now sat across from her — a morning person she is not, but she is not daft. ‘ it is unusual to see you away from my vassal’s side. ’ frank. blunt. she does not mince words, but she doesn’t mean to deride, and her words are fueled by some ignorance. after all, they hardly knew one another beyond names. ‘ they’ve not gotten into any trouble with you, i hope. it would be reflect poorly on their king. ’

[wingwaltz-blog]

once, narmaya found it cruel how the world continues to move on without her; how the world refuses to tilt on its axis to accommodate her. hoarfrost would form along branches and roofs, flowers would bloom upon the winter’s departure, seasons would change and just like her uncle, everything would go on and on, leaving her stuck and helpless on the spiderweb of her own making. 

but now her wings aren’t trapped anymore, burdened by her weaknesses and dependency. hoarfrost would still form, flowers would still bloom, but now she’s moving along with the breeze, pulled along by her crewmates and friends. she will have to thank them again someday, in one way or another. 

and she will start by making breakfast for everyone.

just in time, the kettle before her whistles as if heralding the arrival of the first crewmate of the day.

percival marches in and brings with her the intensity of a ruler, her confidence and strength so palpable narmaya takes a second to remember that she has to turn off the stove and start making drinks for everyone. narmaya had not interacted with the knight as much with her focus centered on the captain, lyria and vyrn, but she suppose it’s not too late to start now that her shoulders feel lighter than yesterday. she does have some questions to ask, after all.

          “ ah, good morning, percival! ” she greets, carefully taking the kettle by the handle. “ i hope you slept well! do you have any preference for a morning drink? coffee? tea? just say the word and i’ll make it for you. ”

@exseele

[exseele]

     mornings are things she conquers slowly, in her own way. sleep came rarely, bringing with it troublesome dreams that made staying awake much more appealing. as such, she is often among the first that wander their way to the kitchens, typically in search of tea and quiet. today, it appears she is not the first, and that who is has apparently taken upon themselves the task of serving breakfast for the crew. 

     a task that is nothing if not monolithic for a single person to undertake, she notes, but does not address. 

     instead, the red shawl that adorned her is tugged closer to her frame to battle the morning chill, while her free hand pulls a chair from underneath the table — her life of privilege leading her to not question the immediate service, and instead merely accept it as something that is. a habit she would need to abolish moving forward, lest she became that which she disliked.

     ‘ — good morning narmaya. tea, if you would. ’ conversation between them had been sparse, yet for those outside of her frequent sorties or own social circle, it so often was. not out of dislike ( usually ), but a reason similar to the swordswoman herself — beyond her vassals, the triumvirate that had brought them all together, her attention so rarely wavered.

[exseele]

en garde, firebug!

     ‘ … ’ deep silence marks her offense at being compared to an insect. a fire simmers within her frame as fingers clench within their coverings, then relax as to not let the man know he’s succeeded in agitating her — that would be to admit defeat when they’ve yet to trade blows.

      ‘ so you can embarrass yourself in front of your men? be my guest.  ’

[exseele]

logs on just 2 say between frost and flame is possibly one of the worst written of gbf’s events with an ending so asspulled the intestines came with it but at least percival’s titties are out 24/7 so it has that going for it!

[99centthoughts]

im gonna be tabling at smash! this weekend at booth 88!!! COME AND SAY HI I’LL BE DYING ON MY TABLE

[exseele]

sigilsofteeth:

            ❛  Transient, she says..  ❜ 

        He considered himself charmed. That as an aside, he always invested trust in the perspective of his hounds. Be them proper or ‘soft’ in their demeanor, they were intelligent dogs.  ❛  It is best more often than not to keep to one’s self. I am an advocate for keeping one’s circle trim –  ❜ 

       And the recollection in his eye is brief, though he is swift to offer a half-bow in return for the title and name offered unto him. ❛  I apologize for I have seemingly forgotten my manners just as well. It is an honor to meet you.  ❜  A smile is swift to follow – the gleam of gold incisors apparent. ❛  You may call me by  Han. I always held a preference for the short and sweet.  ❜  Introductions complete, the obvious tilt of his skull and his gaze cutting aside to a group of nobles adjacent them was enough to garner the knight’s attention, even as she saw to the borzoi now lightly nipping at the segments of her gauntlet.

       ❛  As you can see, I am a foreigner. But even as a stranger in these lands..  ❜  The click of an acute albeit clawed-tip of his index finger’s nail carried his pause. ❛  I hear many things. You understand what I mean, yes?  ❜  The unrest had been a curious endeavor of his to unravel, after all. The reason he found himself even traversing the throes of a party he had little stake in. ❛  The nobles here are vapid, but they hold a number of secrets. I wonder if you find yourself here, too, for the sake of over-hearing valuable information?  ❜

     ‘ something to that nature. i merely wish to see how this nation is run. ’ she is forthright, ignoring the benefits excessive deception might bring her in what had become a quest of sorts, lingering on the edge of obsession. she follows his gaze, thoughtlessly allowing the pup to mouth and nip at her coverings. her sneer is blatant, and she makes no attempt to mask her voice, a lack of fear for punishment from those she perceived as cowardly and corrupt.  ‘ thankfully, it’s quite easy to see with nobility as brainless as this very court. still, i might as well find something to bide my time with. ’

     it appears as if her words had claimed a few ears, a distinct shuffling, the nervous glance of some court lady in their direction. she continues, unaffected. ‘ as handy as over-hearing valuable information is, i grow tired of hearing what daily scandal domestic aristocrats conjure up for their amusement. ’ if it wasn’t that, it was some knight priding himself on his achievements for some mindless war, something equally as annoying to the woman.

     ultimately, the decorated pauldrons of her shoulders move in a shrug, eyes returning to han while armored fingers stroke the borzoi’s chin idly.

     ‘ i do believe i need some wine. alcohol so often makes it a bit more bearable. ’

[exseele]

hi cybil

      hi evian.

[exseele]

sigilsofteeth:

The cur, of his own volition, pressed firm to the woman’s front, eyes wide as the beast saw fit to lift his skull and settle his chin squarely on the slope of her armor, the tail a swift metronome. He was positively delighted to receive any attention she so wished to give - before his owner so chose to allow it. “You’re welcome to him as he’s already welcomed himself to you.” Rather pointedly ( though there’s amusement in his voice ), he gestures with a flourish of his right hand - the wine to which he’d been nursing scarcely moving with the motion. There’s much to be said about an individual that can manage the feat. More than likely that they were a well-versed alcoholic.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you before.” Somewhere in the midst of the ballroom, he heard a trail of laughter. Something seemed terribly off at such functions; Some sense of desperation just at the furthermost edges. Perhaps it was the state of the land? He wouldn’t have been surprised. There are many things people wish to forget with drink and parties alike. “And I do apologize for him. He usually has his manners, though I suppose children are allowed their faults now and again.”

    amusement tugs at her lips, the beginnings of a smirk finding its way on her face. her gauntlet gentle in its brushing of the hound’s snout, ending with a delicate pat atop his head. of course, as sweet as the borzoi was, it is his master who holds her primary focus, gaze lazy as it lingers on the man.

    ‘ if you had, i’d be quite surprised. i’m a rather transient person, ’ she replies, and with it comes a chuckle almost bitter. when she idled, the past had a nasty little habit of catching up to her. too long in a country, and she’d relapse into habit. it’d only be a matter of time before she would remember the days in feendrache, and that very habit would have her isolate herself once more.

    ‘ he has more manners than most i’ve met, even now. ’ of course, that was often a case of them simply returning her volatile treatment. ‘ ah, speaking of, ’ she begins, seemingly self-aware for but a moment. ‘ i’ve yet to introduce myself. i am percival, the lord of flames. ’ a gaudy title for a gaudy woman, but when pressed, she is ever eager to show why she was dubbed such. 

[sigilsofteeth-deactivated201807]

since percival got her thiddie out all the time he wanted to join in.

[exseele]

gay - bisexual thiddie solidarity.

[sigilsofteeth-deactivated201807]

[exseele]

sigilsofteeth:

local gay lawful evil disasters go to the beach

@exseele

[moobiess]

Do you think Summer Percival will finally come home to me if I keep drawing him..

[kalce]

I forgot to upload these?? supposed to be for a GBF zine with some friends but i think its on hiatus. ANYWAY here you gooooo~ Cafe Djeeta and Percy

[lifeinpoetry]

Memory eats me alive. Memory guts me, unravels me, strews me in the snow.

Aurora Engle-Pratt, from “White Out” published in ÄLPHÄ (via lifeinpoetry)

[exseele]

WHAT’S YOUR SOCIAL LINK?

tagged by: @sigilsofteeth​. tagging: if you read this, you’re tagged. ‘ v’

MAJOR: MOON.

The Moon Arcana is associated with creativity, inspiration, dreams, madness, illusions, fear, fantasy, the subconscious and trickery. You are sometimes being attuned subconsciously to the world around, gaining the ability to sense things without being told about them or without anyone else knowing. You are often psychically-attuned, and your projection of your own fears and faults onto others is becoming a habit. You often tend to have trouble accepting yourself for who you are and, because of that fear, you try to correspond to an ideal person.

SECONDARY: EMPEROR.

Emperor symbolizes the desire to control one's surroundings, and its appearance could suggest that one is trying too hard to achieve this, possibly causing trouble for others; some elements in life are just not controllable. Often times, you are troubled by something very personal, and doesn't know how to deal with it.

TERTIARY: HIEROPHANT.

The Hierophant is a symbol of education, authority, conservatism, obedience to rules and relationship with the divine. You are a person who interprets sacred mysteries or esoteric principles, You are matured enough, quite wise and logical. However, you are somehow associated and obsessed with the past.

[shokunai]

I’ve just hit rank 112 and have had tier 4 for like 2 weeks but let’s pretend I just unlocked it so have an overdue celebratory “I’ve unlocked tier 4 woohoo” doodle ft. best boys ヾ(｡･ω･)ｼ

[sigilsofteeth-deactivated201807]

“Beignet seems to be quite fond of you.”

The snout of the borzoi nudges, determined, at the armor-clad midsection of the red-head before him. He makes no move to halt the cur, for he is so very taken with the knight for reasons he’s yet to decipher. He always trusted his hounds in their judgment - saw it fit to merely lean against the wall to which he loitered.

There are whispers through the grapevines. Talks of knights and noblemen and other such things he has no interest in. The party’s subdued beyond the rare string of laughter that bounds off the walls in a cacophony that grates on him. He gingerly sips his wine, eye cut aside to peer blankly at the tapestries strung above them. “Do you like dogs, mon ami?”

[exseele]

     the beast’s insistence is met with muted affection and interest, though even she remembers manners when it came to putting her hands around other’s pets; asking his owner prior to rewarding the pup with a gentle pat or two would be easy enough. ‘ so it seems --- or perhaps my armor has caught his eye. ’ a low hmph, a blink. she never quite needed formal wear to denote her status when the ornate armor of wales came into play.

     the whispers are what root her here, surrounded by gorged aristocracy, unblooded knights and coats of arms she does not recognize. a nation she desired to explore, to see how it carried itself and was run --- only a few of many tasks imposed on herself to learn what made a just and good ruler.  red eyes cast themselves quickly between the hound and his owner as she returns from the torrent of her thoughts.

     ‘ i like them well enough. the pup is by and large the most tolerable guest i’ve met here so far. may i? ’