every F L I G H T begins with a FA L L

❅ bran stark second youngest stark read: disclaimer current verse: before the fall

[neverfell]

okay, i'm going to keep my mental and emotional state higher priorities than my activity online. not saying that i will permanently be dead, i'm still around and will respond to threads but my pace will be a bit slower! since y'know, life is very important and while roleplaying is fun and all, i've got to keep irl priorities straight! :D

my activity has the tendency to fluctuate and whenever i make posts like these, i tend to go back on regularly so we'll just see how my time on responding goes. 

imma be me tho and use some time to myself out of the computer sometimes ja feel. 

[maonsies-thoughts]

Psh… whatevs, probably have posted this before but…. first picture in my Isaac folder… and he’s so bloody handsome…

[miradentrodemisojos]

[neverfell]

outofcharacter. have u ever had those moments where u just don't know who you're musing for.

[traumjanos-deactivated20151211]

brutal Winterfell’s handiwork )

[lady-of-katoren]

Eye of Raven by Artgerm

[moonsdarkseid]

[neverfell]

   No. This wasn't right. This ... place. Wherever it was, which surely wasn't even within the vicinity of Winterfell. No tall man-built walls were structured along its perimeter, it was open. Vast trees were scattered throughout and what seemed to be farther away were unfamiliar buildings. Strange. As if to add salt to the wound of unfamiliarity, there was a rotting smell that tinged the air resulting the boy to scrunch up his nose. Whatever the source was, it was putrid and he wasn't certain whether finding out about this strange area would act beneficial later on. But alas, his curiosity prompted him to proceed an unmarked path, straying to wherever his own feet brought him.

                        That was when he noticed them. People in tattered clothing, some blood smeared on its fabrics here and there. They emitted a bizarre groaning noise; it sounded animalistic. Then their faces made it apparent when they turned to face him. Eyes without a glint of humane sentiments, eyes that were dead and showed not the usual sign of life, had stared at him. The boy's eyes widened without the certainty of what to say -- then, they were running.

    No. No... No! Bran quickly spun around and began to dart away from them, often glancing back to see if they had made any other progress successfully nearing him. It didn't seem so, to his luck. But it was a while, even after he lost those strange people, that he had slowed down and took a good look around his surroundings. Dare he make a sound? He needed assistance, but wasn't certain those ... things were roaming around. Once he reached what seemed to be a decently forested area, he did. 

                                      "Who is there?"

[neverfell]

dude this is so irrelevant it's only a list of starters and replies i owe so feel free to ignore.

starters:

maimedlion

theyoungsir

bloodytitanic

thedarknesstohislight

goodatkillingfatboys

replies:

athisbest

youkeepmakingtea

gotthewolfjunk

cricketandcharm

triednotto

[carmencortez]

[seerspirit-blog]

It was the three-eyed raven… I tried to kill it, but I couldn’t.

[neverfell]

     Being carried due to an incapability of walking didn't invest shameful burdens on the boy's shoulders. He was only disappointed at the fact he was unable to join the Kingsguard or become the knight he long aspired to be. Those tales long told and he known by heart would never have Bran living just like those valiant, dedicated fighters. His hopes of being able to wield a sword and serve devoutly under the King were drained and hopes were left into unattainable dreams. All for now when his legs were useless and he remained a cripple.

 Hordor, the large simpleton that wasn't capable of much speech aside from his own name, had set Bran down onto his bed, then left. The boy was supposed to be there anyway, since he lacked any ability to scale the walls or meander around Winterfell as he would have pleased. So this left him distraught and aggravated. 

 Soon enough, foot steps were heard and he was hoping it wouldn't be Old Nan here to explain another story or mistake him for the predecesor who also donned the name 'Brandon'. She was quite senile, anyway. Easy to make those mistakes. He laid on his bed and remained still, unmoving with eyes shut as if he were sleeping - since he figured Nan would have left by then - but after a few transpiring moments, he was surprised to see his brother. 

[neverfell]

        "What is it, Rickon?" 

 The inquisition came out in a rather harsh manner, not that Bran held much intention to convey himself in that way. Where the roughness of the tone he acquired became apparent just how dire this sudden arrival of his younger brother was perceived, then not even words would be needed to phrase or explain sentiments that he was feeling. It was somewhat mixed, stirred in with other feelings that would create complications if expressed. All that he could muster, aside from words, was his demeanor.

 As he was crouched, concealing himself from the gazes of any passerby that meandered their way, the dim light casted from an ajar door nearby had deepened the formed lines along his face. Though few, furrowed brows would become emphasized due to the slight skin crease his forehead managed to form. He seemed distressed, or likely gravely curious why his brother, of all places, was here with him when Bran was committing to a process that only required his own being. Not another's.

[neverfell]

      Bran peeked out from his window, observing the skies as it darkened due to nightfall. It was expected, after all that was how the days rolled on by during each passing; where the sun ( obscured through the accumulated clouds oftentimes ) had risen, was inevitably expected to fall and invite the blanket of darkness to obscure what was visible in the atmosphere overhead. It was the same old thing. Most of the benefits he reeled in from observing the skies was brief entertainment, but as everything had died down and the only apparent thing moving were the night guards down below, he found himself bored.

 Thoughts arose in his mind, to ponder along the idea of sneaking out again as he usually did. There were moments he had been spotted, there were moments he succeeded in slipping through. The latter was a goal oft attained which ensued a positive notion that things would eventually befall in his favor. 

 A talent he had well under his grasp was to climb. So, that he did. His descent out the window to his room to down below was easy with the scalable walls. He found his way each time he climbed, which was most days and nights. With fingers clasped onto each crevice near his grasp, it was not long until he reached the ground. A soft thump emanated when his footing was rather higher than typically. This was no time to be careless, though. 

                             The second youngest Stark began to slip around carefully. As he was about to sneak into a decent passageway that left him unnoticed, he was surprised to see one of his brothers -- well, bastard brother -- out, as well.

    He closed off the distance with quick, brisk footfalls; soft enough to prevent a lot of noise that would reel in attention, and quick enough to prevent detection from those guards that were usually willing to order him back to his sleeping quarters.

[ghostkittens-deactivated2015082]

F  A  M  I  L  Y   a l w a y s   c o m e s   f i r s t .

[athisbestarchive]

     … it ain’t that cold, was his immediate thought upon sighting the boy. The volume of furs and his attire altogether set him jarringly out place. Raylan didn’t plan to cease his walking, however — oddity, notwithstanding. It wasn’t until he noted the expression on the boy’s face that he found his stride began to tarry.

     Summer, the boy had called out, and Raylan heard the distinction of his accent. Whoever he was, he was far from home — that was for certain. He came to a halt a short distance from him. The distance was more for the sake of the boy, knowing well that a stranger in close quarters could make anyone uncomfortable, but it was also for himself. Age seldom mattered around there.

     A kid could be just as dangerous as an adult.

     "Hm," he hummed, withdrawing his hand from its pocket to push the brim of his hat a little higher. "… lookin’ for someone — ?"

[neverfell]

     The question wouldn’t result in an immediate answer, no matter how much the boy wanted to seek his direwolf. Summer would find his way eventually, that was what Bran believed and was proved copious times before. If signs of the direwolf’s presence remained obscured, then he was hidden. It would take much to disprove the stubborn boy’s beliefs; he would remain thinking his companion was near.

           The elevated temperatures this unfamiliar terrain had his leather attire sticking to his skin, heat accumulating more than what was necessary to keep the boy comfortable. Even droplets of perspiration had seeped from his forehead and one trickled down the surface of his face. The strange man’s question was heard and his attire was put into question-- just what house did he fall under? He donned no sigil. “My direwolf,” he replied. No specific tone etched with his words; no fear of the situation at hand, no sadness ( but that would bound to show when hope appeared to be lost ), not even apparent frustration. Although, his face had shown a hint of curiosity to the unknown. The stranger being the figure his interest directed to.

[neverfell]

outofcharacter. i think i may be willing to interact with one of the starks --