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All paths lead to the water on Amelia Island! Grateful for calm seas and sunny days! 💦☀️ ~ ~ ~ ~ #followmetoameliaisland #waterfront #allpaths #ameliaislandliving #cappriceismyrealtor https://www.instagram.com/p/B2ClAUKHmFp/?igshid=1dcg5adaj9gnv
When you see me post about live broadcasts, and episodes that are on our YouTube channel here on my feed, click on the IGTV icon on your Instagram as shown by the circled icon in this picture. From there you can click on the link that is displayed in the drop-down box you find in the top left corner and view the FULL videos WITHOUT having to go to my profile or copying and pasting into your browser. This is a new feature that I have just discovered and I hope that it is something that you find helpful. #TDPVideocasts #magick #transcendent #learnoccult #allpaths #occultknowledge https://www.instagram.com/p/Bwa0nasHzkn/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=hsf7iesjc3vf
The Point of Mysticism is to Feel Divinity. Mysticism is in every Religion in one form or another, but is most apparent in Hinduism (at this point in History). The Idea is that the Individual must see Divinity in All things including Oneself. It is even in Abrahamic Faiths. The Prohibition against "Idols" is not a banning of Art. Anything, even Ideas can be Idols. It means to Not Worship Things in and of Themselves, but Rather that Which is Beyond All Things. It is to Not just know it, but Feel it. This is Mysticism. With Mysticism, Compassion is Limitless, Love is Limitless. Doing Your Best to Help Others is Unquestionable. The Duality of Good and Bad is gone. Polytheism is Not actually Polytheistic on the level of Mysticism. The Deities are Aspects/Facets of a Greater Whole/Divinity/Eternity/Fullness/Emptiness/Gnosis. Everyone Has their Own Path. A Personal God or Group of Gods are a Matter of getting to Know the Aspect(s) that Call to You. It is about Reaching the Center of All Things. #Mysticism #Agape #Awakening #OpeningYourMind #Seeing #AllPaths #Interfaith (at Sam's Italian Deli & Market)
She was born when the realm was in bloom, when the nature was most lively.
She was born in the breeze of the night and under the light of flames.
She was born frail and tiny, with a cry unfitting her size.
She was born healthy. The clan celebrated her bloody form, an ominous prophecy of the life she would lead. And they cheered in their ignorance.
They didn’t know. No one did. No one knew that the child would grow to be a vigilant hero, although a tragic one, a watchful guardian, a spiteful ally in the war to come, a ghost of vengeance, an urban lethal legend, a criminal.
How could anyone predict her fate, when it could go down such fickle paths? The whims of life are ever so impossible to guess. But it didn’t matter. Not then. She was born loved, despite the secrets behind it all.
That was probably the only thing that mattered. Definitely then, probably now.
It is what she has to remember in her moments of doubt. Even though sometimes she can’t.
She was born loved.
And the day came again for her to remember, as she looked at the stars.
In the breeze of the night, when the realm is in bloom.
Another year passed for Noria.
〆 for a childhood story
“What are you doing up there?”
It was a hot summer morning. There were not many things to do to escape the heat. The children played in the river, but she didn’t want to join them. So she hid under the leaves and the breeze sing to her.
A song she couldn’t hear when the question kept on repeating, over and over.
She rolled her eyes and shifted, legs falling on either side of the branch she was sitting on. She peered at the child shouting at her. “What does it look like I’m doing?” She asked back, her voice squeaky.
“How did you get up there?”“Roben, go away, or so help me...”“Noriaaaa, how did you get up there?”“Shhhh! It’s a secret! This is my spot. Vara u’em!”“I’ll tell mum you’re not--”“Oh no you don’t!” She shouted and went to jump off, but as she went to pass one leg over the branch, her hands slipped. She flipped, and down she went.
Everything went black for a moment, and when she opened her eyes, the light hurt. Everything hurt. She was laying in a carpet of leaves and hovering over her head...
“Noria? Did you die?” She furrowed her brows and reached to grab him, but he jolted out of reach.“Ar tu na’din!” She shouted and jumped after him.
Too fast. Her whole body ached and her head felt like it was about to explode. Dizziness took over and she leaned against the tree.
“Uuuuugh.” She grunted, as she heard his laughter in the distance.
Gluttony:a headcanon about food or obsessions
Noria is always frugal, especially when it comes to food and in her mind, her own self is not exactly a priority when it comes to sharing. The hunter principle or what have you, serve herself last. She eats only what she can make on her own and rarely indulges herself in foreign delicacies, especially sweets. Her diet consists mainly of meat on good days, especially in stews, but occasionally she will allow herself to enjoy a tenderloin steak. On the bad days, she improvises, as Dalish do. And she will eat what she needs to make it, without discrimination. Just keep in mind that when she’s talking about grub, she doesn’t use lingo. She means grub.
//1, 3, 5, 7, 12, & 17.//
1. How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have?: Dakarai will say, without hesitation, that his father was the most honourable man he had ever met. He loved how he always cared for whatever mattered to him. He was always right to his wife and Dakarai himself, and it showed how much he enjoyed his work, feeding the ravens and writing letters. Maybe he was overprotective in his effort to keep Dakarai hidden from Templars, but it never showed. At least Dakarai didn’t see it. There was nothing he hated about him. His father didn’t teach him how to harness his magical ability, but he taught him how to read and write and more importantly, he taught him how to be gentle. How to be honourable. How to be a person one could be proud of. But more importantly, he taught him how to be patient and how to listen, both of which helped him a lot in his later life. Also, he is the reason why Dakarai doesn’t trust the Chantry in any way.
3. Brothers, sisters? Who do they like? Why? What do they despise about their siblings?: Dakarai had no siblings. He was an only child.
5. Were they overprotected as a child? Sheltered?: Yes. From the moment he showed his magic. His father didn’t want him to fall in Templar hands, he didn’t want him to be taken to the Circle, because he didn’t trust any Andrastian institution. He went to great lengths to protect his son, even sent him away for ten years, so that he could train. He wasn’t overprotective in the sense that he locked him inside the house, but in how he sent him away so that Templars wouldn’t ever find him.
7. What was the economic status of their family?: They weren’t poor, but they weren’t what you’d call rich either. They were comfortable. Made just enough money to survive in their everyday life. Many people wanted to send letters and most of them didn’t know how to write them, so there was always work for them.
12. How does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations?: He grew up only writing and reading the common tongue, so his accent is a dead giveaway of where he’s from. Everyone knows he’s Rivaini the moment he speaks, even though that accent has eased down after many years on the road. However, he knows the common tongue very well and he doesn’t make any vocabulary mistakes anyone else wouldn’t make. He also grew past the syntax complications. If anything, his speech is rather academic, he doesn’t know much in the terms of common slang, and even when he learned some, he never grew to use it. Never needed to. He can get his point across without it.
17. Did they travel? Where? Why? When?: Oof, yeah. He did travel, like a lot. He travelled all over Rivain between 7 and 18, so that he could train. Then he made lots of trips to Llomerryn, because that’s where he would be meeting with a rather important person in his life, the one that grew to be his wife. And then, it was mostly trips to Antiva, before he left Dairsmuid for good and travelled to the Free Marches, Ferelden, Orlais, Nevarra and the Anderfels, the latter only for a short time. Because there was no going back home for a person that offered to serve the realm.
Starter Pack!
daggersandsparks
Since I don’t know which Path you want to go with, I’ll be extra efficient and I’ll write you THREE starters. Because I can. Pick the one you want and remove the irrelevant text. And I’ll try to make them extra vague, for more freedom of development.
Circus Path: The crowd had almost cleared out after one more successful performance. Some people stuck around, because their children wanted to see the animals, but he didn’t need to be there for that. Egon could take care of it and shoo them once they’d have had a good look. He removed his colourful coat, leaving his chest bare, and hung it outside his tent before he walked in. Once inside, he spotted her. He took a good look at her and spoke. “I hope you didn’t have to wait long.”
Healer Path: He had to run, fast, he hardly had enough time to pack before the Templars came, burning everything in their path. They didn’t discriminate, struck whoever was in their path, with the excuse that they were harbouring mages. A day’s work, destroyed in a blink of an eye. He had spent hours patching them all up, only to watch them die. But there was no time for him to feel sorry. He could not save them. He would only have himself killed.
He took the reins of his mule and made way to the forest, away from the violence. They wouldn’t look for him there, they didn’t even know he was gone. However, someone knew he was there. He heard a twig snap under the pressure of a boot. Someone was sneaking up on him. He turned around and once he spotted her, he frowned. “I can’t even feign surprise.” He spoke with a hint of anger. “Did you cause this?” He asked and pointed at the flames.
Agent Path: “You will be shadowing them for the entire trip. If they fall victims of an attack, you will not stop it. You will only report back to us. It should not appear like we suspect that we’ve been betrayed. We’re only looking for facts, so that we will be able to proceed accordingly. Understood?” Sister Nightingale was pacing back and forth as she briefed them, and once she finished the sentence, he confirmed with a nod. He didn’t like that plan, but it wasn’t like he could oppose her judgement. It wouldn’t be wise.
“Very well. Dismissed.” She said and walked away. He looked over to his partner. “What do you think of this mission, then? You didn’t speak a word during the briefing.” Neither did he, but another’s silence is always easier to notice than his own.
