Pantera - Mouth For War
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@sinkorol
Pantera - Mouth For War
i WILL write eventually, i’ve just been Stressed lately.
i am, in fact, still alive, but writing has been harder than usual lately.
luck-crowned:
@sinkorol - from ask
“adolin,” the king’s voice has its characteristic warmth as he approaches, son in tow. “i was wondering if you would take illya through some lessons with the sword. felix has been working with him, but i would greatly welcome your involvement too.”
— || ♜♛
Adolin nods to Dimitri, the motion lacking the slight incline of his shoulders in the part-bow of a general to the king that he saves for more formal occasions, times when appearances mattered. This is no such time, but an exchange between friends — along with a request, one that Adolin’s been expecting ever since Illya began his formal training. Faerghus tradition starts their children fighting early, as early as or even younger than the six-years-old at which he himself began proper training, and he’d been a special case at that.
Little Illya shows great aptitude, at the very least, and a desire to learn.
“Ah, so you’re interested in learning greatswords too, young man?” Putting on a stern face, he plants his hands on his hips and eyes the young prince, the youngster tilting his head back, back, back to look all the way up at him from Dimitri’s side, his child-bright eyes wide and excited.
“It won’t be the same as your lessons with Duke Fraldarius. Wielding a big sword like mine means you’ll need to build up strength, and you won’t be able to use a shield, so you’ll be training your smarts and your reflexes too. You might not even touch a sword for a good long while, until I decide you’re ready.
“Your father wants you to learn, but do you think you can handle it, Prince Illya?”
in a perfect world, fathers wouldn’t still train their sons for war. fodlan was at peace with itself, for the most part. there were still the rare skirmish, but a decade into his reign and the changes he had brought- things were settling. people were getting used to the new, stable, way of life. while he lived, it would remain that way; but it was unfortunately undeniable even now that his life would be far shorter than the years needed to truly unite them all. to change fodlan for the better, forever. and when he was gone…it was his duty to make sure his heir could keep that peace, keep them moving forward as a united people under one banner.
but with his death, nobles would try to defect. or worse, claim the throne themselves. illya had to be ready.
dimitri hid a too-damp cough in the crook of his elbow as illya looked up, and up again, at the count his father trusted with nearly the same implicit trust he gave gautier and fraldarius. it was a rare thing to have, earned by those families over generations. and yet, here it was- offered to a man who had come from nothing.
“it was my idea,” he admitted quietly. “but i’m not allowed to ask myself.” his thin blond brows furrowed, tilting his head slightly. “does every adult have that speech ready? uncle felix said the same thing when i started fencing, uncle syl when i started with the horses…” he trailed off, thinking. “except for ashe.”
luck-crowned:
— || ♜♛
He nodded his thanks for the door as they left the training grounds, his practice sword tapping against his shoulder as they started down towards the marketplace.
“He has good footwork, so that gives him at least a small chance of dancing away, but considering he’ll need to worry about keeping his sword in hand after the force of that flourish? I’ll lay my bet on him missing the kick. Once.” Adolin grinned down at him, too sharp to be purely amusement, knowing that Dimitri knew that Felix would be on guard for such a move from then on out, especially if he was caught by it. “On the battlefield, if you have to use it against anyone, you’ll at least have the extra benefit of unfamiliar footing and lots of distraction.”
Dimitri’s follow-up question gave him pause, though. How to answer without having to explain a Shardblade…? Again, the deception-by-omission gnawed at him, when he’d much rather be able to give Dimitri an honest, enthusiastic explanation, even offer the prince a chance to test his skill against him when he had his most familiar weapon in hand— “Longswords, I guess you could say. My father had one, a massive thing with a broad, curved blade and a single edge, a heliodor set into the pommel.
“With good steel, you can make a sword long, but it’s hard to make it tensile enough to retain form but not be brittle, I’m told. They’re also impossible to use with a shield at that length, hence needing to learn to deflect or — as you say your family favours — avoid.” He laughed and thumped his own chest in response. “Which I’m not too bad at either, I’ll have you know.”
The rhythmic ringing of hammer-on-metal-on-anvil grew more evident as the entrance gates loomed closer, though they paused as the two of them presented their weapons — or parts of weapons — to the blacksmith, and Adolin raised an eyebrow at Dimitri before laying his practice sword on the table alongside the spear halves. “This once, and only because it was fresh before we started.
“But then again…” He tapped the table as the smith turned away to begin his new work. “Harsher on your own, or on others’? I saw how that spear fell apart and the grooves your fingers wore in it that made the break easy. I know you have strength enough to do it, but…” He trailed off, mind casting back to training in his Plate, and even up through the last time he wielded its added power. “Is it something you have to hold back all the time, or does it come in fits and bursts?”
“unfortunately, it is the worst of both worlds,” he said with a wry smile. “i am stronger than ordinary people at all times. if i don’t focus, the smallest action can have painful consequences for others. thankfully it wasn’t an issue until i was about eight, and i have the minor crest of blaiddyd. so while it is bad…it could be much worse.” he laughed, sliding some more coin to the smith to cover the practice sword too. his eyes lingered on the gold for a moment, guilt spiking within him. that gold was hard earned by his tenants, who worked his land and produced his goods, asking only for his protection and fairness in return. if it wasn’t so necessary to have working weapons, even if they were only training ones on hand so readily, then maybe he could have sent them and the gold back…
“as i said, worse of both worlds, for sometimes- sometimes it surges stronger, and i have no control or way of knowing when it will happen. that is the truly dangerous part of the blaiddyd crest. unpredictable, and uncontrollable, strength. i don’t dare handle anything particularly delicate.” he laughed again, gauntlets creaking as his hand flexed and then passed through his still sweat drenched hair. “the palace and castle blaiddyd were specifically built to handle the power of a major crest bearer, so at least when i am home, it is of a much less concern.”
even with the description, it was a difficult to imagine a similar sword. but it sounded intriguing.
“i would like to see a sword from your homeland one day, i think.” his smile was honest, excitement coloring it as he leaned back against the table a moment, flapping the hem of his uniform’s shirt once more. his eyes started scanning the wears, alighting on a particularly long blade of southern faerghun design. “it sounds similar to a zweihander or a claymore, but…you are correct about the limits of such a large sword. here- with zweihander, at least- most men use it closer to a pike than a true sword. too long and unwieldy for most to use as an ordinary sword.”
carefully, he pulled the sword from its display, holding it for a moment. hilt and blade, it was longer than he by an entire foot; but he held it confidently as he stepped into the clearer part of the market. he brought it up, one hand holding the hilt and the other just behind the parrying hooks, feet instinctively sliding into a pikeman’s stance; feet apart, knees slightly bent, blade slightly tilting up. he gave a few thrusts to demonstrate.
“however, as the story goes, my grandfather took the heads of several men in one fell swing with his.”
his feet shifted again, hand slipping to grip the hilt with both and gave a two-handed swing- as if to behead an opponent. it gave a satisfactory woosh through the air, deep and nearly booming, and dimitri found himself grinning. he swapped to one-handed, stepping through a few of the blaiddyd movements made for them and the swords they could wield, the very tip dancing just above the cobbles at times.
and he returned it to its display, looking at it fondly. “swords were my first love,” he admitted. “but duty decrees that areadbhar, the lance of my ancestors, will be in my hands instead.”
A. Alvarez, The Savage God
Submitted by brochant.
I love the dead, but maybe it’s killing me.
Heather Sellers from “Dating Men with Children,” featured in When She Named Fire: An Anthology (via violentwavesofemotion)
Fear-Themed Headcanon Questions
Send one (or a few) to my muse and they’ll answer:
Spiders: Does your muse squish bugs or put them outside? The Dark: Did your muse sleep with a nightlight as a child? Snakes: Would your muse ever keep an unusual/exotic pet? Blood: What’s the worst injury your muse has ever had? Clowns: Does your muse prefer comedy? Or horror? Mirrors: What is your muse’s least favorite thing about their appearance? Tight Space: Does your muse ever feel that they’re not living up to their own potential? Closet Monsters: Does your muse hide any aspects of their personality/life from others? Crowds: What does your muse think of big cities? Death: Name one thing your muse has lost that they wish they could get back. Ghosts: Has your muse ever seen something they couldn’t explain? Needles: Does your muse have a strong stomach? Curses: Does your muse believe in good/bad luck? How about karma? Heights: Is your muse a risk-taker? Solitude: Name 3 things your muse couldn’t live without. Fire: Would your muse rather be very cold, or very hot? Failure: Has your muse ever given up on an important dream? Abandonment: How would your muse win back someone who left them? The Unknown: Is your muse a philosophical person? Boogeyman: What position does your muse sleep in? Falling: What does your muse think about falling in love or commitment? Change: What was a turning point in your muse’s life? Disease: What does your muse do on a sick day? Number 13: Does your muse believe any superstitions? Noise: Name one sound your muse finds absolutely unbearable. Insects: Name something your muse finds gross or annoying. Dolls: Has your muse ever collected something? Getting Old: Would your muse rather live 50 years loved, or 200 years alone? Social Phobia: Does your muse consider themselves an outgoing person?
𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 : 𝒅𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔
bold what definitely applies to your muse. italicize what somewhat applies to your muse.
TAGGED BY: @luck-crowned
TAGGING: dew it
𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙰𝙽 » toothy grins, stories around the campfire, clothes covered in pet hair, hot temper, old jeans, heartbeat in head, potatoes and steak, beaded jewelry, bruises like galaxies, mementos, backpack stuffed full, craigslist furniture, spontaneous road trips, air ripped from lungs
𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙳 » homemade bread, white lies, easily excited, trying on hats, band geek, pep talks, no impulse control, sunsets, vintage fashion, long showers, selfies, following dreams, rosy cheeks, song mash-ups, pink lemonade with tequila, loves easily, animated storyteller, full of comebacks
𝙲𝙻𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙲 » list of wishes, biting their tongue, band-aids and neosporin, shoulder to cry on, morning sun, necklaces, trial and error, homemade quilts, formal clothing, astrology fan, messages in bottles, pleated braids, speaking up for friends, feathers, motivational quotes, vivid dreams
𝙳𝚁𝚄𝙸𝙳 » bird watching, shy kid, wind chimes, trying to whistle, summer camp, apple orchards, lost in their head, glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, hoodies, thrift shopping, saving worms off the sidewalk, pig latin, bare feet, thunderstorms, numb fingers, braided hair, naming potted plants
𝙵𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝚁 » goosebumps, leather jackets, adventure, chewing nails, cares deeply but can’t show it, bronze locks, no sleep, taste of iron, netflix binges, never forgets, combat boots, stories behind scars, table for one, official soundtracks, sore calves, trusts themselves the most
𝙼𝙾𝙽𝙺 » always trying to be better, wanderlust, meditation, sweat pants, old photographs, yoga, sleeping in hammocks, nostalgia, minimalist design, a breath of fresh air, baby animals, volunteering, perfectionist, doesn’t care about fashion, healthy snacks, noticing the little things
𝙿𝙰𝙻𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽 » school uniforms, thick jackets, sleeping with the windows open, logical advice, scrapbooking, compasses, i fight for my friends, sculpture gardens, cold morning air, big soul, likes routine, secret romantic, last to get jokes, sunflowers, practical presents, misty weather
𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁 » herbal tea, smell of rain, blinking away tears, camping trips, collecting bones, swiss army knives, first impressions, anxious thoughts, bobby pins, burnt marshmallows, too competitive, clothes lines, messenger bags, holding grudges, gets along better with animals than people
𝚁𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴 » flirtatious sarcasm, candid photos, lost phone chargers, adrenaline rush, picking dirt out from beneath their nails, social chameleon, clashing clothes, self-deprecating jokes, claw machines, sits in chairs wrong, smudged eyeliner, has too many sunglasses, eats nothing or everything
𝚂𝙾𝚁𝙲𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚁 » infectious laugh, family trees, shivers down their spine, lipstick and roses, mood swings, clumsy, believing in destiny, high expectations, sleeping in darkness, collection of nail polish, passionate, good grades but never studies, poetry books, blowing kisses, not knowing their own strength
𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙺 » knowing everyone’s secrets, backpack covered in pins, envy, being in walmart late at night, earl grey, selective memory, conspiracy theories and cryptids, key smashing, need to know basis, can’t cook, bags under eyes, experimental art, flickering bulbs, black clothing all year long
𝚆𝙸𝚉𝙰𝚁𝙳 » piles of textbooks, cat in lap, keeping a diary, indecision, scented candles, studying alone in a café, lingering touches, museum dates, unanswered questions, taking on too much responsibility, collections, chalk dust, comfy robes, unnecessary apologies, coming home after a long day
luck-crowned:
@sinkorol - from ask:
“ah, good evening adolin,” the scowl that had been pinching at his brow eases for the moment, smiling tiredly at him. “it’s a little late, is it not? don’t worry, i’m almost on my way. it’s just…i can’t help but think that if i was a little smarter, this book would tell me what i want to know.”
— || ♜♛
Adolin baps the prince gently over the head with the rolled-up sheaf of maps that he’s here to retrieve in the first place, noting the start of shadows darkening the skin under blue eyes that have nothing to do with the candlelight that Dimitri is reading by.
“Now I’m no expert, but unless you’re some kind of genius where being tired simply brings your mind down to a level with the rest of us, sleep might be the best answer to your problem.” Setting his maps down and pulling out a chair, he spins it around and crosses his arms to rest over its back, eyeing the book that Dimitri had open on the table. The lines of letters — and maybe numbers? Were there numbers in there too? — are incomprehensible to him; he doesn’t have even the slightest inkling of what the prince is looking for. “But then, sometimes you can’t sleep until you’ve found something, and your mind can step down from hunting.
“Tell me what the squiggles say, and what you’re looking for in them. Maybe running it past a different eye will give you a fresh perspective.”
there are very few people with the guts to give such casual disregard towards the fact he was the crown prince of faerghus, and not someone to be so casually bopped. and for a moment, he could swear it was glenn making his displeasure known, like he had so often when they were younger and the too serious prince was pushing himself; but no, a blink and it was adolin, and the mad was added onto a very short mental list.
“oh, ah, i already attempted to sleep tonight, and it wouldn’t take hold. it tends to be elusive, unfortunately.” his smile turned wry, glancing down at the book in front of him: a tome on the empire’s nobility, and more church dealings. “i am…attempting to discover the truth. the coup that ended my family’s lives was not the doing of duscur. i have my suspicions, but nothing solid, and as i keep reading…i am beginning to believe there was more to it than just a lust for power and the desire to remove my father as an obstacle.”
he glanced around, relaxing more, reassured that they were the only ones in the room.
“i cannot explain fully why i am trusting you with this, with something i have not discussed with even my oldest allies, but my instincts say you can understand my position better than almost anyone else.” his eyes snapped to adolin’s, pale blue and piercing. “but i am certain my uncle initiated it, in the hope that he would be able to claim the throne, and he was backed by a number of nobles in the court. however, i am beginning to believe that the idea, and perhaps even the organization of it- originated elsewhere.
i believe this book will get me one step closer to finding that origin. this part, here- it details the sums donated to the church by the nobility. every year, a certain lord donates a considerable sum- until it suddenly stops, not too long before the coup. i have it on the best authority that this lord is alive, well, and still wealthy.” he laughed, but it was far from pleasant. “perhaps both of my uncles conspired to have me killed.”
“why would you ask me that, honey?” mercie !
[ x ]
he stretched his hand out, gently stroking the hair backfrom her face, framed in part by the pillow under her head. “because i don’tknow myself very well anymore, my love. or perhaps i know myself too well.”
he had never given much thought to the topic of children.when he was younger, less broken, it had always been a given that he wouldproduce a heir; and, goddess willing, a spare to ensure the security of thethrone. but now, after- after everything, the war, the madness that stilllurked in the depths of his mind…
perhaps it would be best to let the ruling line of blaiddydspass into history.
but it wasn’t just his call anymore. not when thediplomatic wife had been exchanged for the love of his life, and her say intheir family mattered as much, if not more, than his.
“but would i, mercie? would i make anacceptable father?”
“you’re supposed to be resting your brain.”
[ x ]
“thank you for your concern, hector,” the king said withhalf a smile, looking up from where he was half buried in the paperworkrequired to set the kingdom- and fodlan- to rights once more. the candles hadburned low, and it threw his still-gaunt face into shadow as his eye flickeddown to the page in his hands. truth be told, it had stopped making sense longago; he was beginning to pay for his stubborn refusal to relax now. “but nomatter how hard i tried, sleep refused to find me.”
maybe it was time to do something different. his stomachgrowled demandingly, and he laughed as the noise rumbled through the stuffystudy.
“perhaps you would accompany me to the kitchens, then. iwould greatly appreciate the company while i, ah, rested my brain.”
awakenfate replied to your post: @friekugel the secret is out. hilda is actually...
CURSED
friekugel replied to your post: @friekugel the secret is out. hilda is actually...
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
@friekugel the secret is out. hilda is actually related to ferdie. there’s no hiding it now.