#calcmities

[effcrvescence]

If you could go back and change something, anything, about your life, would you do it?

“yes.” she wouldn’t major in bio.

[apcstasies]

how does it feel being the most sought after apocabachelor™???

‘ how does it feel like to breathe–– wait, no. you’ve got asthma, never mind. my point is, i don’t feel any particular way about that title because it’s just another wednesday for me. ’

[fvneralpyred]

@calcmities asked:

tell me, what are you really scared of? / from Lisa Lisa. And three prompt is from the Batman meme.

"Not dyin', if that's yer concern." To learn Hamon, one must be willing to die for it. It was one of the first things that had been cemented in her mind upon arrival. Hikari has her fears like every other living being-- fog being the biggest, and most irrational of them. The Venetian winter, however, staved it off and left only an uncomfortable icy chill and the scent of saltwater.

No, Hikari didn't fear the fog now, and she certainly did not fear dying. She had died once before, and it had been uneventful despite the violent circumstances. She looks somber. It wasn't the answer she was looking for, was it? "... Not succeeding, or letting y'down. I feel like I have certain... attributes that hold me back. I'm sorry in advance, Teach." Anger. Memory. Craving to feel crumbling stone and the blood of those who've harmed her both directly or indirectly...

[dragonspined]

When Devani was younger, they’d wanted to travel the world.  See every bit of Middle Earth possible, not an impossible feat on broad wings.  Those from which they’d been hatched were content with their frozen mountains and hoards of silver and sapphire.  It was a well and good life- if one didn’t crave warm blood and fresh wind.  An older dragon may have considered it not worth the effort.  But she had been less than five hundred years old, restless, seeking something for which she hadn’t known the name of.  Freedom.  Adventure.   And she had found it.  Relished in the strength of lean muscle that could propel her thousands of feet in the air in one stroke.  The power fire gave her over any who thought to stand against a dragon only a few feet bigger than a warg at the time.  It had been amazing.  For as long as it lasted.  As many adolescents, Devani had gotten cocky.  There were few ways to harm a dragon, many judged Smaug harshly for his faltering in Dale.  

They had made a similar mistake.  Not attacked a town or killed for dwarvish gold, they had never had any interest in such things, but a pretty girl taken by orcs who had been none too pleased to see a winged reptile coming in for her rescue.  Neither man nor orc had reacted well in the aftermath.  It had lead to an awful, violent and terrible time.  One that when it ended gave Devani a better understanding of why some dragons blazed and burned.  The orcs had been ignited until their bones were ash and weapons melted.  The girl’s parents were snarled at about being ungrateful rats.  And the wizard who freed her had left. 

Devani couldn’t give a number on how many years ago it had happened.  Decades, centuries perhaps.  It didn’t matter.  She had settled in a mountain, restless and taking too long to heal.  The itch under her skin seemed to only have been building.  That was one of the few reasons she hadn’t flared wings or immediately blasted Gandalf with fire.  One was not normally visited by a wizard-not without reason.  “Ah.  So the dwarves are to reclaim Erebor from Smaug.”   Neck arched to raise head above him, tilted to put an eye on the other.  “And you wish I to risk my life against the oldest dragon alive?  To help the King under the Mountain return home?”  Their lips curled back in a fanged grin, teeth sharp and gleaming like their eyes.  “While I would love nothing more than to see that old worm taken down, what’s in it for me?  I care not for his gold and silver.”

@calcmities  from here

[beastbitten]

@calcmities asked: ❛ i'm not drunk enough for this. ❜ \ From Hayley.

&. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.

The last thing he'd expected was to come across someone like him -- - or anyone, if he was being completed honest with himself. It wasn't as though he was looking for any interaction at all, but there was no mistaking what she was and it seemed she'd noticed him too, though he supposed it wasn't difficult in the way he'd found himself staring at her as though he'd been frozen in place. At least when she spoke to him, it knocked some sense back into him. "I... sorry, ma'am, I..." Stumbling over his words, the tall Texan backed away with another step, swallowing hard. "I don't want no trouble now... I'll jus' get outta your hair. No harm no foul, yeah?"

[kxjostarr]

calcmities asked: why do they always paint hallways that color? / have an avdol who is always midly curious and alive post pt. 3  

PROMPTS FROM OCEAN'S ELEVEN

"No idea. I guess it's to give a pristine look, but it honestly it looks boring." Even though she wasn't the type to be focused on interior design, it didn't stop her from commenting on something if it was brought to her attention.

"But at least it's easy on the eyes and doesn't look tacky."

[amidst-snow-and-ice-moved]

For: Elrond :: @calcmities Muse: Elrohir Verse: Empath | AU

Dol Guldur.

formerly known as Amon Lanc; once the home and fortress of Oropher, late King of the Greenwood. now the current residence of the Necromancer, better known as Sauron. it wasn't a place where most would dare tread, even if they wanted to. not even the Elves of the Woodland Realm, who lived within the now aptly named Mirkwood, would go there.

it was common knowledge that Elves and Dwarves rarely got on well together, especially after the Fall off Erebor. both races tried to stay away from each other, only crossing paths if they had no other choice. in the few places they did live close to the other, Ered Luin for example; there were usually Rangers of the North nearby to keep the peace.

while folk almost never came to the old Elven fortress, it was far from being deserted. alongside the so called Necromancer and his minions, the dungeons held some long term guests of his. guests who had been missing for so long, many thought they were dead. and who, despite their races, had found a mutual companionship in each-other.

"…El..?"

'Just resting, Thrain...'

a lone blue eye peered at the, older than him but still young, elf. concern stirred at the faded mental response, a direct result of pulling him from the Dark Lord's grasp. he didn't know how long his companion had been in Dol Guldur but time had not been kind to either of them. "..Not alone... Above Tharkûn... Elves..."

the halting words, spoken in a mixture of Westron and Khuzdul, the secret language of Dwarves, finally caused silver eyes to open and focus on Thrain. only then, was it possible to fully recognise who the elf actually was: Elrohir, the younger twin son of Lord Elrond from Imladris.

'Elves... Few would attempt.. to come here.. unless...'

although still weakened from earlier, Elrohir used his empathy to scan the fortress for whom Thrain had spoken. it wasn't difficult- his grandmother and father were easy to identify. his time spent as Sauron's prisoner had strengthened his power yet at the same time, weakened his control.

so his scan was more powerful than the silent elf intended, unintentionally helping the White Council in their fight. there was also another unintended side effect: it alerted them to prisoners below.

'Gandalf, Thrain is.. alive and safe...'

although the message was intended for the Grey Wizard, it was broadcasted to both Istari and elves. his mental words soon wavered and faded. but there was no doubting who had spoken- or that the missing young elf was still alive. if only just.

[joxpacker-blog]