“This part of the Warrens had been built over marshland, and not even drunks wanted to drink standing ankle-deep in mud.”
More stuff from The Night Angel Trilogy, guys! This one, a shot of a different part of the Warrens.
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Cosmic Funnies

oozey mess
DEAR READER

if i look back, i am lost
Keni

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
trying on a metaphor
No title available
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Not today Justin
Jules of Nature
ojovivo
Cosimo Galluzzi

Love Begins

★
art blog(derogatory)
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Three Goblin Art

seen from Canada

seen from Russia
seen from Germany
seen from Japan

seen from Malaysia
seen from India
seen from China

seen from T1

seen from Moldova

seen from South Africa

seen from Brazil

seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from United States

seen from United States
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seen from United States
seen from United States
@imgonnagetout
“This part of the Warrens had been built over marshland, and not even drunks wanted to drink standing ankle-deep in mud.”
More stuff from The Night Angel Trilogy, guys! This one, a shot of a different part of the Warrens.
[[I’m gonna sit here and be sad because there were only two other NA rp blogs and now they’re all totally dead]]
+imgonnagetout
It shamed her to call that man “father”, but it was the only way to explain how the magic worked.
If it wasn’t for their blood link, Jarl wouldn’t be attacked. No matter how badly she wanted her freedom, she wanted his friendship much more. And she betrayed his trust the moment a man she didn’t knew commanded her to fire that arrow.
Vi wouldn’t tell him about the hours she spent at his tomb crying once the war was over and she left the Chantry to visit. Or all the flowers she brought, all the hours she spent talking to him, begging him to forgive her wherever he was at that moment. Perhaps her prayers to whatever god listened brought him to the City for whatever reason. To make her pay for her sins, perhaps? Jarl wouldn’t be used for such things…would he?
She stared back at him, blinking a couple of times. Listening to his voice, it was as if it could dry her tears. He forgave her, yet it still…hurt. Her lip trembled while she tried to speak, forcing sound from somewhere in her throat. “T-thank you”, she forced herself to smile, even when she was sure it would come out as a depressive affection. Vi moved a hand up, using the back of it to dry her cheek. “Thank you”.
Jarl nodded and pulled her forward into a hug. "It's okay; it's...it's in the past," he repeated. Her smile didn't fool him; he could see that it was forced, but it felt good - better than he would have thought - to know the truth, to comfort her again, just to see her again.
He patted her on the back and held her for a long moment before pulling away. "So..." He wanted reconnect with her, for their relationship to be as it once was, only, maybe in a generally more positive situation. "How have you been, since...?"
So I just went and checked Brent Weeks’ website and
ANOTHER MIDCYRU BOOK?!
IS THIS REAL? PLEASE TELL ME IT IS.
Another book in Midcyru would be amazing. The Night Angel trilogy are like my favorite books ever. Another book would be awesome. I really hope this is serious.
[[It is. Mr. Weeks made it fairly clear ever since the end of the Night Angel trilogy that he intends to return to the Midcyru universe after the new series]]
Seriously?
Awesome. I guess I’ve been living under a rock in terms of this because I hadn’t even heard about it. That’s great!
[[Yeah! I can't remember where I read it now, but if you look back pretty far in his posts on the site you'll probably find it.
Also, if you have any questions at all, email him. Seriously. He is the sweetest, most enthusiastic person pretty much ever. After The Black Prism came out, I emailed him asking about how much research he'd done into the actual physics behind light and color because I specialize in optical engineering and electromagnetic spectography, and he wrote me the most fantastic reply and told me all this stuff about The Blinding Knife before it came out and about how he put in all these nerdy science details so that people like me would get a kick out of it. Honestly, he's the best.]]
So I just went and checked Brent Weeks’ website and
ANOTHER MIDCYRU BOOK?!
IS THIS REAL? PLEASE TELL ME IT IS.
Another book in Midcyru would be amazing. The Night Angel trilogy are like my favorite books ever. Another book would be awesome. I really hope this is serious.
[[It is. Mr. Weeks made it fairly clear ever since the end of the Night Angel trilogy that he intends to return to the Midcyru universe after the new series]]
"Hey, it could’ve been a repeat of that time I managed to knock you down and split your lip when we were kids." Kylar shrugged, knowing full well what Jarl had meant. It was true. Azoth was dead, he’d been replaced by Kylar. But Jarl and Doll Girl, Elene..the two of them had always made Azoth feel alive again.
Grinning right back, he leaned forward to poke a finger into Jarl’s chest. “Always old habits. And yeah it has, I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.” He paused. “Well. More like I had the misfortune of being brought here and you were still a lucky guttershite that got to stay in Cenaria.”
Jarl smirked. "If that's your way of saying you're still the immature kid you were back then, then yes, yes I agree," Of course, he knew that that wasn't actually true, but it was nice to see that there was still something familiar left in his old friend, that they could still poke fun and joke so easily like they used to.
"Avoiding you? Now why would I ever do that?" He raised his hands in mock defense. "Oh, yeah, definitely, lucky me.No, but really, it's...it's really good to see you, after everything. So, how long have you been here," He gestured around vaguely. "Anyway?"
+imgonnagetout
"I didnt want to do it, Jarl". Her voice breaks, trembling hands resting on her legs as she cried. He placed his hand on her shoulder and it made her shiver —he was there, he was real. He was alive.
The thought made her cry even more. How could he be so calmed, so composed about it? It all might be in the past, yet Vi would carry the weight of it for eternity. But now she could explain and apologize.
She lifted her face in time with his attempt to dry her tears. Always so caring of her. That gave her an impulse to try composing herself and she used it, deep breaths in to force her body to calm for a moment. “Garoth Ursuul cast a compulsion spell on me before I was born”, she started. “He was my father…those spells works between blood relatives and I couldn’t fight it. He controlled me…He made me do it, Jarl, I didn’t wanted to kill you!”
Green eyes full of shame stared back at him. “Forgive me…please”. It felt so unreal to be the one begging for forgiveness. Her life as a wetboy was filled with people begging to be released, to be forgotten, to be forgiven. Yet now she was the one pleading for a little piece of mind, that crucial step towards forgiving herself for everything she had done.
"Your father?" Jarl's brow creased, as a variety of emotions battled within him. It was a lot to take in - all of this, even just facing her again, in the first place, but now learning all of this, too. Garoth Ursuul was her father? A compulsion spell?
After he'd been thought dead, Jarl disappeared, for lack of a better word. It had been something of an internal struggle, what with how he'd been having a conversation about 'sacrificing your own happiness for the greater good' and 'doing your part' quite literally the moment he'd been shot, but, even if he couldn't quite convince himself of it, thinking he could have - should have - done more, he had done his part. So, while the overview of events had not escaped his attention, it was these small, yet so very important, details that he had missed. And they changed everything.
The same feeling of guilt that he'd felt when he first saw her washed over him again, but this time he knew exactly from where it stemmed. He had actually doubted her, felt so betrayed - which, logically, given the sort of world they lived in, he knew it was perfectly reasonable to assume the worst of someone, but he still felt...awful.
"Vi," he breathed, trying to make sense of what she was saying and everything that it meant. "I--" He tried to think of what he could say, but he knew perfectly well that 'it's not your fault' and 'there's nothing you could have done' weren't what she needed to hear. "Vi, I understand...I forgive you,"
Kylar’s arms tightened around Jarl momentarily, before he pulled away, a large grin still plastered on his face as he looked at his friend. Even if he’d seen Jarl get seriously hurt, even thought his friend had died, it was good to finally, finally see him again.
"What, no hey-ho Azo? C’mon, I’m hurtin’ here, Jarl." He joked, though he knew that those times were long gone. That they were both changed, that things were somewhat tense between them because of their paths in life. But for that one moment, he felt, even hoped, that the tension would dissolve, just for old friendships’ sake. "Nah, I wasn’t accosting you. It’s called a hug. Sorry if it made you look ungraceful, but I couldn’t help myself. I haven’t seen you for Nine Hells’ knows how long."
Jarl scoffed at that. "You're the one who told me Azoth was--" Dead. He stopped himself before the word slipped out, but just barely. The last thing he needed to do was be dragging up old corpses just when they'd finally gotten a chance for the closest thing they'd probably ever have to a fresh start.
A few moments of heavy silence followed the near slip, so eventually he grinned and patted his old friend on the shoulder to clear the air, acting as if nothing had happened. "That's the worst excuse for a hug I've ever seen! And, nah, don't worry; just-- old habits, right?" He laughed. "Been too long, if you ask me,"
+imgonnagetout
The air left her lungs in a painful sob and she felt everything spinning. Her hands trembled, and sooner than later her knees followed. Down to the ground she went, to her knees, shedding the tears she could no longer hide. It took her back to the days at the brothel, where he saw her cry the same tears, with the same pain as she cried right now. Vi could remember how he cleaned her tears and gave her the support she wasn’t aware existed until that moment. The pain of that memory made her guilt grow even bigger, and there was nothing she could do to release it but to cry.
Cry and beg. “I’m so sorry”, she muttered, hands covering her face, feeling something she wasn’t used to: shame. Shame for killing the only person who saw her wounds and cared for them before Kylar noticed. Shame for hurting the only friend she had and not being able to stop herself thanks to a spell.
Jarl's heart sank as he watched her break down. It took him back to times he'd rather not remember - times when he had seen her so hurt and broken and tried so hard to help her put herself back together. He supposed it was those times that had really brought them together, that had given him a friend when he'd had no others, and for that he knew he should be thankful, but it was a cruel sort of fate.
He knelt where she'd fallen and put a hand on her shoulder. "Vi..." he said softly, a look of sorrow on his face, and then trailed off, not sure what was the right thing to say at a time like this. He wanted to comfort her, like he always had, but, at the same time, even for him it was not an easy thing to forgive. It was...an enormous betrayal, but he'd had a lot of time to think since then, and he understood how their world worked - it hurt how much he understood, - that she hadn't chosen her life any more than he had his, and that people like them were forced to do things they hated.
"It..it's in the past," he eventually managed, bringing a hand up to wipe away her tears.
+ imgonnagetout
[The weather was, yet again, cold and rainy. Annie had long since grown tired of the same weather pattern, as well as grown tired of going from shop to shop seeking some sort of shelter from the rain. She still had yet to find her own place to stay, but that didn’t quite occupy the forefront of her priorities nearly as much as finding a way back home did.
In fact, the girl was so wrapped up in her thoughts and sorting out her priorities as she walked briskly down the street, that when she turned the corner, she crashed directly into another person who appeared to be heading in the opposite direction.]
Jarl had only just recently arrived in the city. Really, after everything that had happened, he couldn't stay in Cenaria, so he had wandered for a while, and now somehow he found himself in this strange place. He was supposed to be dead, after all, so now seemed as good a time as any to get out. Of course, cold, sopping wet, and still wandering out on the streets wasn't exactly his idea of a 'new start,' but he'd found himself in far, far worse scenarios, so he didn't too much.
He wasn't particularly paying any mind to where he was going, his mind wandering as he absently considered his options and internally grumbled about how the rain would make his plaits poof absurdly when he finally got dry, so he didn't see the woman coming around the corner before he crashed into her.
"Ahh, I'm so sorry!" He caught himself and took a step back, instinctively reaching out to see if she was okay.
+ imgonnagetout
It was like being punched by a ghost. A very angry, very handsome Ladeshian ghost. But a ghost all the same. Had Kylar been walking, he would have fallen over. Hell, he still might fall over, just in shock, he honestly didn’t know.
His emotions betrayed him, throat closing up to choke back any ungodly noises he might have made, before he rushed forward, pushing people out of the way and practically leaping on the other male’s back, arms wrapped tightly around him. “Jarl!”
Jarl was making his way through the typically-crowded street when he was all but tackled from behind. He lurched forward with a loud "oof," nearly toppling over under the embrace (if it could be called that), in a movement that, somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognized as being unacceptably inelegant.
For the briefest moment, he was entirely at a lose as to what exactly just happened, but he would recognize the voice that called his name anywhere. "K-Kylar?" He turned to see his age old friend - because, and hopefully always would be, his friend, even if their lives had taken such different turns and they hadn't been on the best terms last they'd met. "What are you--" He shook his head, recovering himself from the shock of such a dramatic greeting. "Last I remember, I didn't think it was your style to accost people in the middle of the street, in broad day light, no less,"
+imgonnagetout
All color drained from Viridiana’s skin, turning her paler than usual. She felt cold, colder than usual while staring at the man in front of her; Ladeshian toned skin and the distinctive hairstyle she learned to love and appreciate. It was just as she remembered: the flawless skin, the proud way of standing, his chin always up.
The face and skin of a man she was sure she killed.
“No…” was all she could allow herself to say to prevent those tears that tried to escape from her eyes.
Jarl had the nagging feeling of one being stared at - the sort of feeling that would sit right at the back of a person's mind, making them itch with the need to glance over their shoulder. So he did.
And there she was, pale, fire-haired, and beautiful as ever. A myriad of emotions flitted through him: shock, recognition, a brief but sharp pang of betrayal, all followed by a low, simmering sense of guilt that he couldn't explain. He had nothing to feel guilty for; this was the woman who had tried to kill him - who should have killed him, by all laws of men and nature - and the woman he had once cared for and counted as one of very few friends. He was not the one who should have felt guilty, but the feeling crept up on him, anyway.
"Vi...?"
[HIIII
i’m so happy there are tears in my eyes this is so awesome we need to plot to do things aaaa]
[Yes yes yes we need to plot asap
now come here and let me love you forever ehehehehe]
[A JARL BLOG EXIST
JARL JARL JARL
SCREAMING THIS IS THE HAPPIEST DAY EVER]
[*pokes head out of cave where mun has been hiding* what huh what who
Why hellloooo there~]
Kylar was impatient. It was one of his worst flaws and if Durzo were there, he might have smacked him. When there was nothing to do, Kylar simply lounged around. He had sorted and organized his herbs, cleaned every blade so that not even a hint of blood remained in a single crack or crevice. He’d sparred, practiced, and strengthened his Talent until his body buzzed from the energy.
But now what? He resorted to throwing the ka’kari, letting it bounce and roll, and then calling it back and sucking it into his palm.
Boredom. It was the worst.
"I suppose it's good to see that you're making good use of your time," Jarl approached him form behind, not having a single doubt that he'd hear him coming long before he spoke. So, when he did, he stopped and crossed his arms, arching a brow as he eyed what he imagined must be the wetboy equivalent of twiddling his thumbs. Something of a grin stretched across his face. "I take it you're not getting yourself into too much trouble, then, if you have time to be sitting around?"
Open (to literally anyone)
Jarl sat across the room, watching his fingers as they tapped on the knotted wood of the table, deep in thought. A whimsical smile stretched across his lips, and his eyes trailed up to meet the other’s. He regarded them for a long moment, as if looking for some hint of sincerity, and then laughed softly. “I don’t know why you’d think I should trust you, but…Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“I am both daughter and sister to High Kings, doubt you my honor? Of course this is a good idea,” Aredhel smiled wickedly. It was more than possible that she was misusing ‘good’ to mean ‘fun.’ “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Jarl chuckled. “Honor is not something you will find in great abundance here, my lady,” He returned the smile, “Least of all amongst your present company,” He tapped a hand against his sternum, indicating himself. “So I’m afraid you still lack a convincing argument,”
“What?” Aredhel could not stop herself from laughing. “Do you fancy that you’re going to scandalize a lady with such talk of dishonor?” She smirked. “Clearly you know nothing of my kin, —”
"Jarl," he supplied. "And how would I, my lady? I don't even know who you are, let alone what you are,"
Open (to literally anyone)
Jarl sat across the room, watching his fingers as they tapped on the knotted wood of the table, deep in thought. A whimsical smile stretched across his lips, and his eyes trailed up to meet the other’s. He regarded them for a long moment, as if looking for some hint of sincerity, and then laughed softly. “I don’t know why you’d think I should trust you, but…Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“I am both daughter and sister to High Kings, doubt you my honor? Of course this is a good idea,” Aredhel smiled wickedly. It was more than possible that she was misusing ‘good’ to mean ‘fun.’ “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Jarl chuckled. "Honor is not something you will find in great abundance here, my lady," He returned the smile, "Least of all amongst your present company," He tapped a hand against his sternum, indicating himself. "So I'm afraid you still lack a convincing argument,"