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[nor-oi-blog]

Three Archetypes Quiz

50% Creative

The Creative appreciates all beautiful things, in art and daily life. The creative act is essential to who they are.

28% Intellectual

The Intellectual is the ultimate dinner-party guest. Engaging questions and thoughtful debate are their trademarks.

22% Rebel

The Rebel is comfortable throwing caution to the wind—and bucking the system—if that means getting their point across.

[nor-oi-blog]

hellsouled:

The talk of magic books reminded the mage of her guild’s library. She had never really appreciated it yet now she longed to be there, surrounded by the many volumes. Looking at the remains of what must have been a great library in its time, it was easy to imagine Lucy and Levy in horror at the sight. 

“I know where there are some shops who specialise in magical items.” Not that Mirajane required anything to use her magic but being from a world where everyday items were often magical, it was a good to be able to get some things with ease. “You may find what you’re looking for there.”

“If you would like, I could take you.”

   “It’s unwise to trust any old magic shop you see. Just last week I was tricked into buying explosive ritual candles from a street vendor! Ah, what a great trick...” Henry still had the cast to show for it, after jumping out of his window to escape the flames. 

   “But if you do know of any trustworthy merchants, I’ll gladly follow you!”

   He stepped closer to her without reserve, and without being bothered by the fresh cast on his leg, holding out his hand for her to shake. 

   “I’m Henry, from Plegia. Pleased to meet you!”

[nor-oi-blog]

grexsemxnkcy:

That struck a nerve. NOT just the fact in a sense, in that way, he told her to shut the fuck up (that’s how she took it), but also called her out. This bastard’s lookin’ for an ass whoopin’ of a life time. Arms are folded across her chest, “You wanna go?” Is he trying to pick a fight….Even if she was the one who technically started first? 

“Step outside, I’ll kick your ass.” Geez!

   The threat was like a wave, and Henry sensed it at its full force. So he put back the books he’d been holding and looked to her, and then the standby librarian, and then back to her, raising an eyebrow.

   “Maybe we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here,” and he internally cursed himself for not having any spare disembodied feet around to further enunciate his point, “You might even be able to help me. I’m searching for something very specific. Do you know anything about magic?”

[nor-oi-blog]

ikatkar:

@nor-oi

“Aren’t our smiles so similar? But I suspect it is to hide different matters. Yes, you are surrounded by darkness… not even that pleasant expression can hide the truth of your heart.” 

“You see, crows and foxes get along quite nicely and I am eager to see it myself.”

   “The truth of my heart. How exciting!”

   He shifts from side to side. “I’m sorry to say that you’re wrong, though. I’m not hiding anything. I’m just a happy dark mage! I don’t have anything to hide... I’m quite the open book.”

[nor-oi-blog]

rizulizu:

“Well, uh, sure, I guess we’re sort of rare but- That’s not the point! This is certainly not just a little scratch, it’s a whole fricken red waterfall!”

Gripping tightly at her wooden staff, Lissa huffed about, not quite satisfied about the guy’s casualness. It was almost as if he didn’t care that he was hurt! How could he just stand there like that when he was practically bleeding out from the gash in his skin? 

Even though the choice was all her’s… she couldn’t just ignore it. With little time to spare, Lissa cast a healing spell on the weirdo’s arm, keeping the blood from spilling further. 

“There… Gods, what’s your problem? That’s got to feel better now… Seriously, I can’t believe you’re just chilling up here bleeding like that. I’m glad I found you before you passed out. If you’re hurt, you should see a doctor or someone. Don’t be stubborn, you’ll die!”

Lissa tried to calm herself down but.. this guy was just off putting. Still, despite her initial frustration, it wouldn’t take long for Lissa to calm down and relax, leaning against her staff for support. It was then that she recognized the stranger’s cloak. 

Grimleal. 

“Oh, hey, are you Pelgian?” 

   “What’s a bit of a flesh wound? I feel fine! You’re a real nag, and I’ve known you for five minutes.” As correct as she may be about seeking help, Henry simply didn’t see the need for it. But that was a direct result of his nerve damage, and then worsened by his carelessness. “If I die, let me die bloody! There’s no other way for me to go.”

   He inspected the healed wound on his arm, closely, reveling in the red stains and yet unsatisfied by the lack of scar or wound in the first place. And then he looked at her for a long moment, not yet answering, but inspecting. After a few blinks, he hummed out a laugh.

   “I’m only the scariest dark mage in Plegia! But I go by Henry. Thanks for the concern and everything.”

   His sleeve fell back down to its former resting place, skinny arms not able to keep the fabric up, though the rips along his forearm and upper arm were still stained with a dark red. It appeared as if some beast may have been ripping into him, but he didn’t bring up the subject.

   “You’re from Ylisse, aren’t you?” The intention wasn’t to be accusatory, or intimidating, but something in his tone couldn’t stop itself. 

[nor-oi-blog]

grandmastering:

Desecrating the city?

Robin should hope not, but something far more important begs his attention. It is often difficult to read the younger mage’s expression, with that ever-present smile of his rare to crack, but the words are enough to strike the tactician dumb. Could this be a prank? Henry loved his fun, no matter how … odd it was.

Straightening his robes passive, Robin furrows his brow at the Plegian. There is no sign of deception upon the lad’s face, but it was not as if Robin expected there to be. Just a minor hope that Henry would bark a laugh.

“I know you to be such a mage, yes, and you are correct in your assumption. Do you not recognize me?”

   It lessened, his smile, though it was by such a small margin that Henry was sure this stranger wouldn’t be able to tell — these intimate things were unknown by those who couldn’t say they were close to him. Small, atmospheric changes that could only be touched by the persistent hand of a friend.

   “Is there any need for me to?” his head tilts a few degrees to the right, inquiring in the same way as a curious dog might. “I’ve never fought with you before, and I haven’t seen you around the army..... oh!”

   He points his finger up, along with his eyebrows, as if he’s come to the conclusion he was searching for. “One of Mustafa’s new recruits, right! I was always bad with names, care to remind me?”

[xmusiings]

Who are we? The night, death, oblivion, no one.

Dolor, Victor Hugo

[nor-oi-blog]

REPOST. DO NOT REBLOG.

BASICS.

name:   roman age:   20 pronouns:   he/ him zodiac sign:   leo taken or single:   taken

THREE FACTS.

001.   i used to be a marth main in smash (melee) before i ever knew what fire emblem was 002.   i know the shrek script by heart 003.   i’m considering a second character

EXPERIENCE.

platforms you used:   tumblr

MUSE PREFERENCE.

female or male:   male multi or single:   multi. i always have a muse somewhere

WRITING PREFERENCE.

fluff, angst, or smut?   angst, by far plots or memes?   plots

tagged by:  —

tagging:   everyone!

[nor-oi-blog]

grandmastering:

@nor-oi​

“Henry!”

Robin would recognize Plegian robes anywhere.

The tactician runs, his hood flying off of his head as he goes, hardly slowly down when he comes across the younger mage. Robin’s hand briefly grasps Henry’s elbow as he almost literally skids to a halt beside him. The dash leaves Robin a little breathless, a byproduct of lack of sleep, but he provides Henry with a reassuring few pats on his shoulder as he composes himself.

“H-Henry, what in Naga’s name are you doing here?”

   “Hm?”

   He turned, struck with such a brash form of unfamiliarity that he wasn’t sure what he should say. A smile was offered all the same to the confused soul who Henry was sure he couldn’t recognize. Right? He racked his brain while he stalled with an introductory speech,

   “In Naga’s name I must be desecrating the city! If you know my name, you know I’m the scariest dark mage in Plegia, don’t you? But I have an inkling you must not want my autograph,”

   but still could come up with nothing.

[nor-oi-blog]

if-thats-the-command:

“Yeah! I think so anyways, probably.” She was pretty sure one of her companions had learned how to fight from animals actually, she wasn’t sure if they actually helped anyone else.

“Ohhhh…” This man seemed very laid back, not really at all like the other people you had met back home. As he spoke Levia couldn’t stop from tilting her head slightly in confusion. “You don’t?” She was pretty sure thats what friends did, right? That why she always had to help UNION and them out, wasn’t it?

“Are you certain? I thought that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do isn’t it? Hmm…” When she thought about it a little more she supposed she didn’t necessarily force the snakes to do anything, but it wasn’t as if she didn’t control them either. “What do you normally do with your friends then?”

   Something about her was off, and Henry only grew more increasingly aware of it. Though he had his own transgressions to nurse, there were a few things he was aware of in life. A vague sense of what he should and shouldn’t do came from himself and his own experiences, like preserving the innocent companionship of a friend (even if that friend happened to have feathers and wings). 

   “Don’t leave it up to me to tell you how to live your life, but friends are there to keep you from being alone. If you order them around all the time, are they really your friends at all? Favors are nice and all, but they have to choose to help you out all on their own.”

   He was unable to see the irony in the things he said: the man with no friends giving advice about friendship would be quite amusing to anyone who knew him, but none did here, and if they did, they’d be guaranteed to be out for his life. His home in Plegia was full of people who thought of Henry as a friend, yet none which Henry could think of in the same way.

   Animals, however, were different, and he counted them as different.

   “You’re pretty clueless about this,” he announced bluntly. “Who taught you about these things anyway?”

[nor-oi-blog]

grexsemxnkcy:

“…..” She’s debating on if she should open her mouth or not. Her father had always said that ‘if you’ve nu’in’ nice t’say, don’ say nu’in’’ and yet, she always, without fail, opened her mouth and nothing nice ever came out. She clicks the roof of her mouth with her tongue. Say it, otherwise it’s gonna bother you, “You gon’ start bitchin’? This ain’t what the library’s for.” There you go. One day, she’s going to say the wrong thing to the wrong person and probably get her ass handed. Maybe. 

   He turned to her, only looking at her with one eye open, and held a single finger up to his mouth in a shushing fashion— though the sound didn’t come out of his mouth. The gesture itself was enough of an impact, in his humble opinion.

   “You’re pretty bold, being rude in front of so many witnesses. Are you going to do something about it? Or do you just like to hear yourself talking?”

[nor-oi-blog]

hellsouled:

MIrajane really, really hated being in any of the districts. Used to a world that was no way as built up as Hive, being beneath the city made her feel claustrophobic despite having never suffered from a phobia in her entire life. It was less about what could lurk down there as much as the idea of the whole city collapsing down upon them. 

“I’m impressed, I was trying to stay out of your way.” She hadn’t meant to judge him, but she had learned to try and keep herself to herself to avoid conflict but it seemed unavoidable now. 

Stepping from her ‘hiding’ place, she smiled warmly despite her discomfort of the term curse - in her world, it was never a good thing but she would give him the benefit of the doubt, not all worlds were the same.  

“If you’re lost, there’s no need to trade,” Though how useful she would be was yet to be seen. “Where were you looking for?” 

   Perhaps their respective worlds weren’t so different in the end. 

   “Oh, I don’t take up that much space, and I’m not here to make a mess.” Henry was reckless and even a bit careless, but not when it came to his magic— or things that might aid him and his magic. “I’m looking for books.”

   ...Obviously. With his gathered strength, he stood in front of the dilapidated bookcases, gesturing to the multitudes of decaying volumes. “Tomes, to be more specific. But none so far have been spellbooks! Without them, I’m afraid I’m quite useless.” 

   In contrast to his rather bleak statement, he was beaming with a smile, as if it didn’t bother him at all. But it did, and he knew it did. Without magic, who was he?

[nor-oi-blog]

it’s getting late but i certainly did a taglist and a thread page, for anyone who’s interested! i know i have a couple more starters to do but i’ve been pretty tired today, so those will be out within the next few days.

in addition to those, i’d like to introduce another rp ad! threads are a fun thing. i’ll cap this one at a solid 3.

[lifeinpoetry]

How many times I have looked / at the world and turned away.

Tarfia Faizullah, from “What I Want is Simple” published in Pen America

[nor-oi-blog]

   He’d been humming the same tune over and over, a certain song he couldn’t go a day without hearing in some public music speaker, in some congested part of the city. 

   “Curses for earworms... better write that one down for later,” he muttered aloud.

[nor-oi-blog]

rizulizu:

Lissa never minded heights all that much. She used to love sitting on top of the the castle in Ylisstol and watch all thee tiny little ant sized people go about their busy days. The city here was lined with buildings and hills taller than she’d ever imagined before- making city watching even more entertaining.

She hadn’t expected to bump into someone though. 

“Yeah, I did. Whatcha’ doing?” Lissa nodded her head, strolling up next to the stranger, “You trying to catch a sneak peak at-”

Lissa paused, looking over at the stranger and watching the blood drip down his hand and onto the ground. She wouldn’t be a healer if she hadn’t noticed such an obvious trail!

“Oooh my fricken-gods! Are you alright? That’s totally blood. Oh my gods what did you do? What the heck are you doing just standing there! Let me heal you stat!”

She inelegantly screeched, preparing to cast a spell. Her hands gripped onto the wood of her staff, having used it previous as a walking stick. 

   “Well you’re quite a rambunctious one, aren’t you?” A long ‘oh’ left his mouth a few moments later, having seen her staff and realizing that she must be a mage like himself— not quite the dark kind, and not quite the Plegian kind. “A cleric! You must be good to keep around. We never had too many for very long. Something about ‘disposability’.”

   A few more drops fell, but Henry wasn’t paying it any attention. He was weighing his decision in his head now, thinking that his defecting could have brought him more trouble than it did. But he slipped away like a ghost; Plegia put too much trust in him, it seemed. And he was sure that even if he was given any grief, or found out before he could leave, that he’d be just as carefree with this young woman as he was right now.

   Part of him screamed that she was from Ylisse, but he couldn’t pin down which voice said so.

   “It’s just a little scratch,” he held out the torn part of his sleeve so she could see the bloody mess for herself— not just a scratch. “I’ll be fine! But I’m not the boss of you, I’ll leave the aid up to your judgement.”

[nor-oi-blog]

aeternuming:

The sudden blare of the fire alarm jerks Lloyd from an otherwise solid night’s sleep. He sits bolt upright in bed for a moment before rushing to his bedroom door.

Evacuating the building went surprisingly smooth. Lloyd comes to learn when he steps out onto the sidewalk, shivering from the sudden chill and a bit shy upon noticing that he was still in just his pajamas, that plenty of the other tenants in the building had merely escaped through their windows. Hands tucked into his armpits, Lloyd shuffles through the people gathered outside the building, picking up bits of conversation as he goes.

Smoke coming through the vents, people feeling the fire just under their feet as they fled. What a mess this was. Given the Sector they lived in, some people speculated that it was an attack from an aggravated gang. Lloyd isn’t so sure.

His assumption may yet prove to be true.

Someone leaps through their window and Lloyd immediately rushes to where they had landed, along with a couple of other of their neighbors. As soon as he looks down at the silver-haired boy, Lloyd feels the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. That was a broken leg, if he’d ever seen one. And he had. Goodness, he had.

“Hold on!” Lloyd drops to a knee at the mage’s side, gently yet firmly pushing the boy onto his back. “You need to just relax, okay? We’ll get you to the hospital, okay?”

The kid seems pretty whimsical despite his circumstances, but Lloyd turns his attention to that broken leg of his. Lloyd worries his lip between his teeth. Over his shoulder, he hears one of the people who’d joined him begin to report the incident.

What a night.

   Relax? Who did this guy think he was? There wasn’t many a moment of Henry’s life when he sought to calm down— why, he couldn’t think of a single one. He couldn’t think of much, though. Something about heavy injury took a number on things like concentration and critical thinking skills.

   There was enough of his attention span left for him to realize he’d been moved, however; the stars didn’t shine too brightly here, but a man like Henry sought to blame that on the gently rising haze of the fire that he started, rather than light pollution. It was also just as easy for him to believe that someone was blowing a horn in perfect rhythmic fashion rather than the existence of a fire alarm, and that the horns in the distance carried their own trumpeters. Was it a circus, to gather around the broken Henry? A pre-funeral procession? People did that, didn’t they? If they didn’t, they should really try it out— the thought was quite heartwarming. 

   Then again, if Henry had to pick his own death, it would have been on a battlefield rather than the ground beneath a broken window. 

   “What a way to meet your new neighbor... And it looks like our building’s getting eaten up. It’s a good thing I won’t have any stairs to climb, I’m gonna be pretty burned out after this!” 

   While he was busy laughing at his own joke, working class city locals rushed to the scene in their firetrucks and ambulances to take care of the situation— not a circus, and certainly not a pre-funeral procession. Which, according to Henry, was really too bad.