( Hey guess who moved
new url is the same as the old one, @jasperlion )
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@jasperlion-archive
( Hey guess who moved
new url is the same as the old one, @jasperlion )
☺, ☤, ♫, ☰, ✼
Munday~
☤ - Have you ever had to go to the emergency room? Why?
Several times when I was a baby, but the most notorious time was the time I got heatstroke as a lil babbins after the car broke down in the highway and I had to be rushed to the hospital after my aunt noticed I wasn’t doing too hot.
♫ - Do you listen to music when you write? If yes, what kind of music, if no, why not?
While I answered this earlier, I can expand a lil more. I used to have general mood playlists for both drawing and writing, but eventually the more I branched out the more I realized for some charas/situations, the song didn’t fit the Mood(tm), so I go for specific songs these days.
✼ - Do you think the character/characters you role play as reflect who you are?
I can expand on this one a bit more too! Beliefs were touched on, but as for personality... I think Alm’s personality reflects a younger me, before I got super bitter. Even now that I’m doing better on that department, I’m a lot more cautious and skeptical! He makes me remember how I used to be so trusting, and it’s not in a bad way!
☰ - Fun random fact about the mun!
Back when I was a kid, I really wanted to be a vet! Funny how goals can change the more you learn about yourself~
☺ - Post a picture of yourself or describe what you look like!
Under the cut for the pic
♫ - Do you listen to music when you write? If yes, what kind of music, if no, why not?
Munday~
Hmmm... I used to listen to it a lot! Now it’s just whenever I’m in a position where I don’t have to constantly mind the noises outdoors for waiting on someone to bring smt in or waiting on this and that. I’m afraid it’s hampered my ability to write while listening to music, though...
But still, sometimes I still do, and it depends on the mood of what I want to write. For something angry-ish for someone like Grima, maybe something like this. For something angry-ish (on the battle end) for Alm, something more like this.
☠ , ⛄ , ✼ , ☰
Munday~
☠ - Do you think you’d survive a zombie apocalypse?
Hm... that’s a toughie. I think I’m probably adjustable enough after all that’s happened to adapt, but the rest depends a lot on the company I keep and such. Like finding people good in all sorts of trades to maintain a sustainable place where we could make all we needed (clothes, soap, animal husbandry, farming, etc). I’d definitely struggle at the concept of destroying someone else, even if they’re dead. I’m just a giant softy at heart and no matter how many corpses I’ve seen, they still make me feel ill.
⛄ - Do you have a favourite holiday?
Back when I was a kid, the answer was easily christmas, but considering all that happens around that holiday these days with my family, I think I prefer the Day of the Dead.
✼ - Do you think the character/characters you role play as reflect who you are?
Probably a little bit of my personal philosophy for each, with their own sprinkled here and there. Neither reflects me fully, just small glimpses, and the rest I have to figure out myself and get into the character’s head to understand. It’s a good exercise, I think, to play with someone who has a POV not too similar to my own, but not too far removed.
☰ - Fun random fact about the mun!
I’ve been to most continents at this point!
Munday Meme Extraordinaire
Send me a symbol and I’ll answer ooc
☕ - Do you prefer coffee or tea? Perhaps neither, or both?
☠ - Do you think you’d survive a zombie apocalypse?
☺ - Post a picture of yourself or describe what you look like!
⚽ - Are you active?
⛄ - Do you have a favourite holiday?
♫ - Do you listen to music when you write? If yes, what kind of music, if no, why not?
☤ - Have you ever had to go to the emergency room? Why?
♪ - Do you play any instruments?
⚖ - Opinions on the fandom your muse blong to?
♿ - Is there anything about your body you’d like to change if given the chance?
✂ - Do you hate people easily?
✼ - Do you think the character/characters you role play as reflect who you are?
⚄ - Do you play videogames? Have a favourite?
✵ - Are there any other fandoms you’d like to approach?
⚜ - If you role play more then one muse, do you have a favourite?
⛔ - In real life, are you friendly?
⨁ - Do you hold grudges, or easily let things go?
♥ - Besides fictional characters, is there someone you love?
♾ - Which timezone are you in?
W - What do you do for a living?
♡ - OTP for your muse?
⚔ - NOTP with your muse?
☰ - Fun random fact about the mun!
☘ - Wildcard! Ask the mun anything you’re interested in finding out.
[ all I can say about this new banner is that maybe I will finally be able to save up orbs again ]
[ been considering migrating alm to his whole account(since this IS a sideblog), but at the same time im just. hm. if that makes any sense
anyway, sorry for all the ooc posts and all. I’ll be cleaning up soon ]
♦ nyalm pls tell us what you think about the reeds
“Hahaha! Nyalm? Well, let’s see...”
“I’d say Lloyd is... ‘wise’! And Linus... ‘determined’!”
♦
“Loyal!”
♦
“... Resolute.”
Send me a "♦" for the first word my muse thinks of when your muse is mentioned.
[ one of these threads is getting really heavy on the horrifying aspect of it so if smt else needs tags by all means lmk ]
indumasname
How quickly the tide of battle turns. Like force to a crossbolt’s firing mechanisms, the Fiends and Alm move upon her whims as she remains stationary. He dodges, they strike. One by one, the minions fall ‘til but one is left defending this priest, like watching players move pieces on a gameboard.
Celica forgets she is a player herself, and reacts a second later to soften the second spell Jedah casts in her direction. Regaining her stance with the Beloved Zofia before her, it cuts the blow of the initial blast head-on. Still, the accompanying force sears through her being like acid, pushing her inches back as it passes and eventually dissipates.
The violet haze left in the air by its corruptible nature melts in the clap of red that floods her being, setting her nerves alight with the sizzling color to the point of blinding her, like she’d been staring straight into the maddened eye of the War Father, unable to look away as His words shake the structure of her frame and command her to—
Call to me… thirst for me… thirst for power!
—another flash signifies to her that Alm has rejoined her once more. Though she feels moved by the overwhelming compulsion to obey the call, it is by her desire to see this monster of a man fall that Celica leaps forward, ready to let her blade swing straight down upon his head—
Rather than her edge slicing through hair or cloth, or flesh, however, she hits an invisible barrier instead.
“What…?”
“Keh hah hah ha ha ha!” Sparks and bolts of violet and red fly as she presses against the transparent protection keeping Jedah mere inches out of harm’s way. “You think Duma has given you alone an all-powerful blessing? So long as I remain in His good graces, neither you nor your pet can touch me, Anthiese!!”
Light forms beneath the Cantor’s feet as he readies yet another spell. Celica continues to apply more pressure, more power, praying that the power she has might prove this snake wrong, but it refuses to budge—
… Heed my call… you who thirst for power…
“Just hold on!”
… cALL TO ME…
Voices reach out to her for the promise of that which she desires in this moment— and she claws at the one that makes his barrier crack beneath the pressure of the Beloved Zofia before shattering with a force enough to blow her back to the floor.
She and Jedah quickly try to regain their stance. The latter is all too eager to throw another bolt of death at his adversary; Celica starts, but the aura of power, black tongues of fire amid the red, surrounds her, shackling her movement.
So much power— but she can hardly focus to contain it—
Her strikes are blocked by a barrier of energy, and Alm growls under his breath as the enemy taunts his Master. He faintly hears a call, one not directed at he, and so discards it from his mind. Even so, the flames around him begin to burn brighter, a surge through his soul tearing through. It is not for him, yet feeds his flames, and thus he surmises is a boon for his Master.
He who dares. The man he hates. Sights focus on Jedah alone as the cantor’s laughs turns to shock. She breaks his petty barrier, and he takes it as his cue to strike, to keep Her momentum. His blade sings and yet it is air that it cuts.
The man, his enemy, is blown back by the force of the break, and yet somehow manages to gather his feet enough to dodge. A snarl escapes him of fury, and he tenses, about to attempt a second blow when he notices the cantor’s chants.
The focus of his strike.
How dare he?
How dare he?!
There is not enough time — never enough time. Even if he struck now, he would be unable to protect her, to—
“I failed to keep you safe—”
It... it didn’t matter. It was his turn now.
His body vanished in smoke and ash, reappearing before Celica as the spell cast. A cry of pain escapes him as the spell hits, sword raised but barely able to block most of the blow. Still, he holds. He has to hold.
He is vaguely aware as the servants he called upon for Her surge forth, one hit by and missing the last of the serpent’s own terrors. The rest focus on Jedah himself, fueled by their rage, two striking true with their blades.
But it’s not enough. A shuddered breath escapes him. Not enough.
However, as long as he can fight — as long as he manages to sustain his form — he would protect her with his everything.
indumasname
“—Kill me!”
It is the last thing Celica feels she can say, let alone do of her own free will. She is a passenger in her own body that exudes a disgusting force of power that is more than enough to knock Alm and his sword away; try as she might to wrest control back, her soul is feeble and mortal, fleeting against even that of a maddened god.
Her body advances despite her disarmed foe. The blade drives deep into its mark, and she can do nothing but watch and listen to the pain as if it had been her own body she stabbed.
She feels the tremble in her body wishing to rip the weapon away; to let him lie in a pool of his own blood, but all she wants is to end the misery this has caused.
Finish it…
That thought allows her to move away with an intense struggle. Step, step, step. Celica should finish it, yes, but all she can find in herself, if only to gain more control, is scream—
Finish it!
The sensation of lightning jolts into her veins, scrambling her train of thought with crimson precision and forcing memories to the surface. A tower midst a glowing sunset. Tears of joy in her eyes as he turns around, and she tackles him to the stone floor. Things tumble off the balcony and onto the steps below, but she doesn’t care— after seven years, she’s finally found him. He’s here, in the flesh— “Alm!” she cries— alive and well… and he whispers her name in equal recognition. Celica.
FINISH IT.
Another bolt of lightning, shorter this time, but even more potent than before. The memory replays, hazier than the last. Her, bathed in a red sunset, and him. Alm.
F I N I S H ! I T !
Unaware of her writhing, her mental struggle as she clings to the memory, the image of him despite the jolts striking at her again and again— steadily losing the image now, but desperately clutching at the idea, the concept of the person she refused to let go— that she refuses to lose in the sea of red. Refuses to finish.
She can’t finish it— finish him. She won’t. She’s done enough to him, to…
Something sharper than the shocks pulsing into her body enters straight through her, blinding white and brighter than that crimson color she chokes on. Faintly, she reaches a hand out to grasp at it, unaware of its sharp edge— unseeing of the bloody hands that wield it; of the bloody hands her fingers rest upon.
“A-Al—”
The whimper of his name is all she can manage against the blank and searing white filling her, taking away the breath and the voice and whatever power remained in her left from the struggle—
Her pliant body slides to the floor. Red stains the regal and holy kingsfang from its bladed end. Ears hear not the cackling laughter, or the despaired cry. Eyes meet, but she sees nothing. Feels nothing— not even the tears on her dampened face.
Breathes nothing.
Celica is set free, yes— free from the life that had been corrupted by her foolish mistake.
His strike rings true, but there is no fanfare to celebrate, no triumph welling in his chest. Just like his two earlier victories against foes he thought he could barely overcome, his chest felt hollow rather than fulfilled, and he—
His rasping, wheezing breath hitched at her whimper, her hands weakly grasping his own, and he stumbles to reach, and reach,
Celica collapses, Alm’s weak grip unable to hold them both. He falls with her, the impact jostling his wound and the sword still stuck in him. His world goes white from pain, a raspy wheeze escaping him. His mouth opens, and within his struggle, blood surging at the back of his mouth and spilling forth, he weakly calls her name in return. A call she will not hear, his gaze clearing to see her own... empty. Empty unlike before, no spark of life left within. A choked sob leaves him in his struggle to breathe, and hands weakly reach, grasp, pull at the damn thing. Gloves and skin tear at contact with the blade, and yet it does not deter him.
It hurts. He has to remove it. It’s so
painful...
Cries of pain and sobs of mourning sorrow echo in the silent chamber, tears escaping his eyes and joining on the pool of blood beneath them, growing larger and larger as the liquids meld and it is unable to tell which is hers and which is his. Metal clatters upon the ground, and Alm realizes then what he has just done is likely a mistake. It’s so hard to breathe... it’s so hard to...—! Coughs and wheezes leave his irritated, wounded throat, blood spurting from the newly exposed and deep gouge as well as his mouth.
Light fills his vision, and Alm is dimly aware of the fact that it comes from the Falchion before the pain overtakes him. Wheezed, pained breaths almost seem to slow to a stop as the bright light paves way to darkness.
His consciousness fades as he hears the call of the voice he heard before, pleading for him to hold on.
Live...
Live...
You must live!
The coughing and wheezing returns with a vengeance, Alm’s eyes snapping open, even if unseeing. His left hand slowly, weakly, clutches at his throat, a dim realization hitting him that while the wound remains, it is not as painful as before. In and out, he tried to breathe, but the air irritated him so...
And the coughs that came after just made it worse.
@askrcastle [x]
“Wow!” Alm’s gaze roved over the wings, smiling to himself. “I bet it must take a lot when you’re awake!” It was hard to imagine just how Aurora would pull such a feat, but he figured that similar to the dragons that wielded a power similar to the Gods of his homeland, there was probably a reason people around here called Aurora a ‘bird’. Maybe she could form-shift as well?
He does not immediately take her offer to touch them, instead turning his beaming smile to her. “It’s not as much awkward for me as it is kind of amazing! I’ve never seen someone with wings before—!”
The closest it’d get would have been seeing Clair’s pegasus for the first time, even if he already knew they existed. It had still filled him with awe, just as Aurora’s wings did now. Maybe they would be a bother for some things, but he was sure they had their upsides too.
“I guess I’ll take you up on it, but if you don’t feel good about it, tell me and I’ll stop right away.” He might as well set that line before he crosses it! Alm had accidentally upset others before, and it was something he didn’t want to make a habit out of.
Reaching out with his left hand, his touch on the feathers is soft and fond, fingertips barely brushing against the wings, admiring their well-kept sheen. For now, he avoids the actual joints themselves, if anything to not make it too awkward for Aurora. Soon, he stops, dropping his hand and wearing a small smile on his face.
“Was that alright?”
@radiantxhero replied to your post “♧”
ALM IS SUCH A GOOD
[ YOU ARE SO RIGHT, ]