to hell with the stars.

apollo hawthorne. blacksmith. kradaeca. sweet creature. had another talk about where it's going wrong. but we're still young. we don't know where we're going. but we know where we belong.

[ofapvllos]

daphne-savoy:

“There are many shops around that sell more appropriate clothes.” The ones he was wearing weren’t so bad so she thought he was overreacting, but she wasn’t going to say much after all many of them didn’t have time to properly pack or think about the things they may need.

           the man begins to fan at his face for further theatrics, hoping it gave him some sort of relief from the scorching heat of dracborough. “aye ?? d’you mind showing me ?” apollo gestures to the many shops before placing a hand on his head. “hurry, i may even faint !”

[dork-adios]

[ofapvllos]

daphne-savoy:

Daphne looked at the foreign people arrive, she felt so bad for them, having to leave your home and life because some person decided to take over seemed horrible and she deep down feared it could happen to the people of Dracborough as well, truthfully she feared more the Ironhaven army that those pirates or whatever they were that had taken Kracdaeca. She smiled faintly at someone approaching “Do you need help with anything?”

           dracborough was the kingdom he had hated the most. while apollo adored the heat, the burning of the sun in kradaeca was more dear to his heart than the heat scorching his skin in dracborough. he longed for home-- after all, he’d just gotten back and now he was on the move again ?? the blacksmith looked up upon hearing a soft voice. “i need a thinner clothes, it’s a wonder i haven’t been set on fire yet.” 

[ofmoodys-blog]

(past)

[ofapvllos]

cesarscommand:

the man seemed to hold just as much regard for secrets as cesar did. good. “someone who’d rather keep my business out of everyone’s way.” he replied, his words lowered. he would give the man his name once he was sure it was safe to do so. his shoulders stayed square, his chest proud. best leave an intimidating impression on the man, lest he be scammed. he chuckled at the question, detaching the small sack of coins he was carrying, and jangling them in the chilly air. “of course i do.” better not to leave things up to question, when the metal he carried was a rather large uncertainty indeed.

he quickly tied his steed to a nearby fence and unbuckled the bag containing his prize: the metal was heavy, but nothing too troublesome for him. for the most part, it was still covered in dirt, for fear that he would tarnish it somehow. but in patches, starlike grey metal shone through. he ducked into the hut and placed the bag on a table. next to it, he dumped his coin. then he reached into the bag and removed the chunk of matter. “i am not sure what it is good for, but anything you can bring forth will be rewarded handsomely.”

           he wondered why anybody would openly seek him out. not that he wasn’t adequate at his job, he was. fairly so. but being in a different kingdom with strangers, he figured they would find the norden blacksmith-- yet he wouldn’t complain, at least not aloud, after all, he’s getting paid to make a this for the man. as the outside light is closed off from the door and they are safe from norden’s harsh winds as well as eyes and ears, apollo stands considerably close to the man, waiting to see the metal he brought him.

          it doesn’t take him long to realize this material is no ivory steel. no, it was far too thick and heavy looking for that. apollo let his fingers run over the smooth, charcoal surface. he’d only heard many tales of swords made from the strongest of steels of how it could take down any enemy with one blow. “by gods,” he whispered with shock ( and perhaps a hint of impression. ) “do you’ve any idea what this is ?? it’s EBONY STEEL !!” though the blacksmith makes sure that his voice is quiet, hushed in urgency so that no wandering ears hear of this information. after all, it was the rarest of steels. “i will craft a sword for you. but you must cherish this, always. many will crave this sword.”

[ofapvllos]

pvrnelle:

                      purnelle’s jaw immediately drops at her brother’s reaction. just to spite him, she wads up her hankerchief and throws the damned thing his way. “ because he doesn’t want to force anyone to marry into a family that has you in it, “ she says with a sneer. “ i’ll become a spinster just to save them from you. “

           apollo sends a glare her way as she throws the used handkerchief at him but decides against saying anything. though, his decision slips as his mouth moves before he can properly think. “marry into our family ?? no, dear sister. if you marry, you’ll be sent off out of our family.” 

[ofmoodys-blog]

(past)

[ofapvllos]

cesarscommand:

it had been days since his hurried flight from the largest black market in the land; since then, he’d been hiding in his room, staring at the fragment of star, wondering what the gods wanted him to do with it. the lump was so large he could not conceivably hide it about his person, not without carrying a conspicuous sack upon his shoulders. and he did not dare abandon it, for fear one of the crooks had followed him back to norden with the hopes of stealing the thing back. and still, he had no clue about its worth. loath as he was to share his secret, he knew he needed a blacksmith. he may have been stubborn, but he was not stupid.

so into his saddlebag went the muddy-grey mass, and onto the still exhausted back of his ink-black steed went the saddle. he did not enjoy riding the beast through the streets like some warlord or king, but secrecy often denied him comfort. the horse trotted across the dimly lit streets. he knew of a few blacksmiths, but he trusted none of them. a bag of coin - all he had to spare - clinked at his hip. if he could buy both information and silence from any metalworker, that would be enough. the kraedecan, man was easy enough for cesar to pick out in a crowd, and he guided his steed forward, swinging gracefully out of his saddle as he approached. “apollo?” he asked the man as he alighted on the ground. cesar knew full well that was his name, but it was polite to ask even so. “i may have work for you, if you so desire it.”

@ofapvllos

           ever since their extended stay in norden began, apollo had taken shelter up with a local blacksmith, occasionally helping him with some of his orders. on the occasion, the blacksmith would allow apollo to make his own in the hut. a small friendship of sorts to which he was quite grateful for. he’d been stuck in the crowd of norden, trying to buy as many things as he could from the market. with the plethora of merchants scaling up and down the street, it was a wonder someone had managed to find him. 

           “depends on who is asking,” he answers gruffly, before turning completely and getting a full view of the man. the blacksmith was no fool, he could tell the importance of someone just by the way they held himself and the man who stood in front of him-- perhaps he was of some importance. but not to his kingdom. “you got the coin to pay for it ??” but as his eyes ravenge the man, he realizes, he does. so without another word, he nods to the side, hoping that he would understand the gesture. apollo enters a hut, his friend’s hut and makes sure to close it after the buyer. “lets see it then.”

[ofapvllos]

pvrnelle:

                      purnelle abruptly paused halfway through her sentence, with a grimace. the tingle began at the dip of her nose bridge, causing her to scrunch her nose. the girl quickly raised an arm to her mouth as she felt the sneeze coming up fast. “ ah – “ maybe she could stop it. “ ah – “ maybe… “ choo !! “ no. no, she most definitely failed. “ sorry about that, “ she sheepishly says, reaching into one of her dress’ pockets to pull out her handkerchief to wipe her nose.

           he’d been accompanying his sister on a walk-- why did he entertain the idea ?? he doesn’t know. but it doesn’t take long for purnelle to ruin it, much like she ruined everything for him. “gross !!” he cried dramatically, wiping his shoulder as if she had given him the black death itself. “have you ever tried covering your nose ?? for gods sake ! it’s a wonder why our dearest brother hasn’t shipped you off for marriage yet.”

[ofapvllos]

05. Do you consider anyone a rival? If so, who?

“ that bloody guard from breakfast. ” @averycassel

[ofapvllos]

averycassel:

he stares at the food that had been knocked out of his hand, and then at the man who interrupted his thievery. “i see yours didn’t teach you to mind your own fucking business,” he says, before grabbing another piece of food he’d been eyeing on the stranger’s plate (with quite a bit more vitriol than his initial attempt). he eats with self-righteous airs.

“how can i, when you’ve caused such a disturbance to my peace ?” he sighs dramatically, opening his book. he rips his eyes from the fellow’s, allowing them to drift back to the poetry. “they don’t starve people” he quips before adding,”perhaps what you need is bravery to ask for such foods.”

[ofapvllos]

averycassel:

breakfast turned out to be terrible. avery was both too tired to care and too tired not to. the person beside him had a far better looking one, which he was of half a mind to steal. he didn’t. he just eyed it longingly whenever they weren’t looking. then, after a particularly terrible bite of stale bread, he broke, and reached out, only for someone’s eyes on him to register. “what?” he said, as he turned to face whoever they were.

he’d been reading some long forgotten poems, keeping the book up to his face to shield it from potential approachers. however, the consistent moving in the background catches his attention and drops his book with an overdramatic groan. “for the love of the gods,” apollo grumbles, smacking the food out of the man’s hands. “did your mother teach you no manners ??” he eyes the man, visibly checking him out. “clearly not.”

[ofapvllos]

07. Anybody who you like, but they dislike you?

“ dislike me ?? of course not. ”

[roleplayxgarden]

send me a number and my muse will answer:

[ofapvllos]

roleplayxgarden:

01. Who do you trust the most? 02. Who do you trust the least? 03. Who would you like to fight? 04. Who would you fight for? 05. Do you consider anyone a rival? If so, who? 06. Anybody who you dislike, but they like you? 07. Anybody who you like, but they dislike you? 08. What’s the uniquest relationship you have? 09. Of everyone you know, who’s the most like you? 10. Of everyone you know, who’s the least like you? 11. If you had to pick three people to go on a road trip with, who would they be? 12. Are you scared of anybody? 13. Is anybody scared of you? 14. Who would make an ideal spouse? 15. Who would make an awful spouse?

[thestoryandyou]

[galgadotssss-deactivated2016071]

[ofapvllos]

sybeaumont:

“ oh, ” sybil turns to face him fully, leaving the images of swords and daggers and such behind. “ i’m not afraid of you. or your swords for that matter. ” she answers honestly reacting in the only way she knows to such a challenge. she closes in on him, standing at his back where she can look over his shoulder at what he is doing if she stands on her tip-toes. “ i wanted to leave you to work in peace. eventually i would have made my way over here but i suppose i can stand watch instead. ” she murmurs, looking almost mesmerized at the way the man handles the chisel and the way he seems to bend the metal at his will effortlessly.

he raises an eyebrow at he sudden boldness. so it seems her fiery hair match her personality as well. as the woman approaches apollo, he continues to keep his gaze on the work set out before him. he doesn’t need to turn around to know that she is but inches away. instead, he leans further down on the table to get a closer look at the sword’s edges. “how can a man work in peace when he’s got the most beautiful woman in zenan in his tent ?” he asks without hesitation, his flirtatious lie rolling off his tongue with ease.

[ofapvllos]

avielheo:

if avi notices apollo’s silence, he doesn’t mention it. “ivory steel sounds wonderful.” then it’s time to be confused by the man’s questions. “does one need a war to wield a sword? it’s not as if soldiers don’t train when they aren’t on the battlefield.” but of course, he’s not a soldier. “it’s a hobby,” he adds. “was a hobby, i should say.”

he gets his chisel and his hammer ready while listening to the man speak. “you are not a soldier,” he spits out matter-of-factly. though, apollo could be wrong but taking into account the man’s clothes and the way he stands, he is anything if not noble. “you play with swords in your spare time ??” he sounds unamused, disinterested, almost but asks anyway.

[ofapvllos]

watchoutforfreyja:

“Yes,” Freyja answered. “I fought five and easily won against those five. Their skills were inferior to mind.” Freyja had no issue boasting herself while putting down others. It didn’t phase her. What did phase her was that this man asked to see her sword, her father’s sword, but didn’t wait for a response before picking it up. “I know,” she uttered in an almost growl as she waited for her precious sword to be returned to her. She half expected him to run off with it and she was ready if he tried. A dragged was secretly tucked away in case she needed to use it.

another scoff and a roll of his eyes. “your boasts are rather useless, it hasn’t impressed me.” he’s no stranger to the strength of women throughout zenan but rarely did anything actually impress him. apollo glances up at the woman upon hearing her angered tone. did he offend her ?? he couldn’t care. “i am a blacksmith simply admiring such a masterpiece,” he offers as an excuse to ease her worries.