baker's dozen @presstointeract - Tumblr Blog

I don't post my work work often but I really enjoyed animating this tiger for LNY this year!! Everything is made with paper, done in stop motion. 🐯🎉

mmmm during the alienage purge ina’s mother told her she was under No Circumstance to use her magic or try to help her parents and - and ina didn’t help them. but she put her sister to sleep so she wouldn’t cry with magic, and she made the wardrobe they were hiding in seem insignificant and not worth anyone’s time with magic, and she masked the sound of her breathing with magic and then. watched her parents attempt to fight for their home; watched them die with her sister clasped so tight to her chest she left bruises.

and her mother never used any magic - not to fight, anyway. after she watched her husband die and a guard decided she was worth more alive than dead, she warded the wardrobe where she knew her children were hiding and self-immolated, taking a not-insignificant amount of guards with her and starting a massive fire

ina knew they couldn’t stay until the fire was put out - she caught what was left of her mother’s spell before it drifted off with her death ,shaped it, wrapped it around herself like a quilt, and carefully stepped through the blaze to pick the only thing of value her parents had off their bodies: their wedding rings. there was nothing else left to take, so. and then she used most of her magic keeping the ward up (it was clumsy and inefficient; she had never used a spell like that before) until they were clear of the fires, used the rest of it to make them unnoticeable as they exited the city through a lesser-used gate and took brief shelter at the farm where ina had worked for many years

and she had to explain to hallan everything that happened, afterwards, but at least her little sister didn’t have to watch them die. at least she spared her that. and then ina pocketed the rings, unsure of what to do with them (and at that point, not even aware they were magical)

#it would take her like a good few years to fully process the alienage purge because obviously! traumatic!#and through all that time all her grief just gets turned to anger #and more anger #and more - etc.

natalieweepoetry

I kneel into a dream where I am good & loved. I am good. I am loved. My hands have made some good mistakes. They can always make better ones.

Natalie Wee, “Least of All,” Our Bodies & Other Fine Machines (Amazon / Goodreads)

#arkwright #wyn

asoftwrongness

A summary of this blog !

#nameless

wyn @ larkin: i generally take whatever you say and do or intuit something similar to the polar opposite of it

#which isnt meant to be a rude sentiment #just wyn covering her own ass #dnfjndndbf i still love thinking about couriers just existing as non pcs together

trainer cards for some bts folx

roz has an eclectic team bc she’s kind of a misfit and keeps ending up w misfit pokemon

don’t @ stiffcollar about the milotic

#also the badges are just nonsense #i picked them out based on appearance

victoriajoan

[She was] proud and impatient and flammable.

Jill Lepore, from Book of Ages (via victoriajoan)

#wow the drama #ina

> bandit.delete

#sorry im a dumb 12 year old who still is impressed by killcams

a weird janky timeline for sakine’s early days in the gameworld. weird n long, goes up ‘til her losing her eye

nearly executed

clutching her pearls neck the entire way out of helgen bc a giant axe came down like 2 inches away from it. tamriel nearly lost one of its best voices and no one would have ever known

“warns riverwood” with ralof (ie, follows him down the mountain because she sure as fuck didn’t want to be walking around at night alone with only an iron sword)

intrinsicallydisordered

Hope has two beautiful daughters; their names are Anger and Courage. Anger at the way things are, and Courage to see that they do not remain as they are.

St. Augustine of Hippo

#not that this isnt the hokiest quote BUT #INA

these are probably horribly dark on anyone else’s screen but mine, but. indmira in various stages of ‘i’m allowing people to See Me’

top is her pre-meeting-sakine usual get-up - she was a wilderness guide decked out in a million furs and she hardly let anyone see any of her body except her eyes. after beginning to travel with sakine, she drops the hood/absolutely massive fur cloak and simply keeps her face scarf up, which remains a constant because Skyrim Is Cold. and then just regular ol’ indoor indmira, looking cute

god. sorry i do this like once a year but it’s time to take ten million screenshots of indmira, as sakine would do if she had a camera

memoryslandscape-deactivated202

I am nobody: A red sinking autumn sun Took my name away.

Richard Wright, from Haiku: The Other World, eds. Yoshinobu Hakutani and Robert L. Tener (Arcade Publishing, 1998)

#delilah

tasmin does extreme bosmeri yoga meant to warm up warriors and hunters (but perfect for thieves, as well) and nameless does... normal people yoga. it has a different name, after the collapse, but she does poorly with meditating while not moving, so controlled movement through poses does quite nicely.

wyn does yoga once in awhile during stretches, but usually doesn’t have the patience - stretching is more important to her than special poses, and i doubt much of the ‘idea’ of yoga has remained. if she wanted to look like contorted dead person in rigor mortis she’d just get a room at the atomic wrangler and not lock the door

#wyn's a runner tasmin is euuuhhh an acrobat i guess #nameless is a space wizard who is less bound by earthly limitations and does it more just to do it #i GOTTA sleep is the thing

this ones saucier so ill put it under a cut lmfao sorry (still arcana but huuuhhh lazier writing & no names & saucy, as previously advertised)

“in all this time you’ve been away, have you thought of how the hangman’s noose would feel?”

she was sitting on him - straddling him, really - legs bent at the knee so her ankles could hook back over his thighs. her voice was low, teasing, but with an edge of... knowing. far too knowing, she was; too quick to find his sore spots and dig in.

not that he was complaining.

“yes,” he breathed back to her, hot breath skimming along the empty space between neck and collarbone. her shirt’s collar had been pushed open, past her shoulders, hanging halfway down her torso. the fabric was soft, worn, inviting; a cool barrier between him and her warm, warm skin. he kissed down in that hollow for what felt like the thousandth time, her skin accepting the bruising without immediately disappearing like his did. what a pretty picture they made, the roses he painted for her.

“perhaps you’d like to try it out,” she replied sharply, her hand suddenly closing around his throat. his appreciative, affirmative noise was cut short but the pressure she exerted for just a moment before easing off again.

“i can demonstrate it for you, free of charge.”

it was all he could do to wrap his arms tighter around her back, bare hands pressing under thin linen to her radiant warmth.

“on the house,” her voice had been gradually descending in tone, getting softer and softer as she leaned into him. he buried her face into that hollow he’d been kissing earlier, feeling her fingers close back around his windpipe in response. her digits weren’t long like his, or elegant like asra’s, but they were firm, strong. authoritative.

“yes, god, yes.” but the words were lost, muffled against her skin, expressing their meaning only through their fervor and how his hands gripped harder at her waist.

he’d let those fingers do whatever they wanted, and he’d thank her for it at every turn.

sry, more aimless dialogue disconnected from any semblance of a plot. i ? fell in the arcana hole yesterday and i can’t get up

“Ugh,” Julian started, peeling off the wet leather from his hand - the hand unblemished by the murderer’s brand - and looking at his fingertips. “I look like a raisin.”

Their flight had taken them into the river, ducking under the rickety docks and treading admittedly disgusting water while guards tromped by overhead. Rowan muffling her sudden laughter in her sopping arm, adrenaline making her giddy; Julian grinning in response but familiar enough with the highs and lows of being hunted to forestall his own reaction.

“Why is it that whenever I’m with you, I end up in the water?” she’d asked in passing whisper, her head bumping against his shoulder in the current. A cheeky comment about getting wet came to him, but was suddenly silenced by another passing guard patrol before he could lean over to whisper it to her.

Eventually, they’d dragged themselves out a few hundred feet downshore, cool summer air making their sodden forms shiver.

Now they sat outside Mazelinka’s again, fully aware that the old woman wouldn’t let them inside until they had shed a few dozen pounds in water weight.

Rowan leaned to look, taking his fingers in her own under the pretense of inspection. “It so happens that I’m very fond of raisins,” she replied, taking the moment to study his palm lines as well.

“I doubt I’d taste as good in a bread.”

“Hrm,” she said in turn, a strange noise between disappointment and pondering. “I suppose I’d need a taste test, first.”

And then, seemingly oblivious to the easy flush that had worked its way across Julian’s face, she continued, “Your heart line is freakishly long, Devorak.”

#whats WILD is how i literally don't know what rowan looks like #i haven't Decided

on my list of ideas for that ana & wyn fic is them exclusively speaking in coded messages aligning w wyn's favorite childhood story, something wyn is positive that no legion member has ever read and knows her mother will always understand

the legion is efrafa, slaves are does, wyn (a little facetiously) refers to her own movements in the third person as el-ahrairah. the messages are coded like fables, written on scrap fabric and rough slave-made paper; any soldier who intercepts them and can read just sees childish nonsense. they're usually not intercepted, but occasionally... but either way, it'a a good communication system when it works

#sry watership down is giving me All Sorts of ideas

i often have pieces of dialogue and nothing to do with them (as i rarely ever get to writing the thing they belong to), but a years-old line from the classique 'wyn and ana fight the Whole Damn Legion' (with tricks, not one on one):

Wyn shrugged, as she'd made up her mind and nothing could be done for it now. "When in Arizona, do as the Romans do," and she nodded down at the Legion camp below.

Ana shook her head. "It's funny how you can say something so dumb and yet sound so much like your father in one go."

"I thought those were already synonymous."

And it was a joke, from both of them, to bridge the shadow of fear that had grown long against the thought of Wyn willingly giving herself over to a Legion patrol. They had a plan, but plans go bad, and there was no telling... well. It does take a certain type of woman to walk down there on purpose, and it takes another type of woman entirely to let her daughter do it - or the same type of woman, and the instinctual trust shared between them.

Ana had been planning on doing this herself, but she was older and had a great risk of being recognized. Wyn was conspicuous, yes, but young, fit, and had a skilled markswoman waiting to back her up if things got too sticky.

Wyn still swallowed through her thick fear at the idea of the slave collar, and turned away.

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