#ghostofthespire

[glowyapostate]

Say 5 nice things about yourself and then tag 10 of your friends or followers.

tagged by lyrium-wolf

(Oh Lawd okay... let's do this)

1. I like that I have a wide knowledge of different topics, and I love to discuss them in length with others if I have the chance. I guess I can thank my parents that through their guidance and example I am very open to the world and want to absorb as much of it as possible.

2. I love my cheekbones ( I guess I can thank my parents for that as well), I didn't really notice them until a few people mentioned it to me that I have really amazing high cheekbones. Now I wear them proudly and usually try to emphasize them.

3. I love that I have a strong-willed mind. Unfortunately my nerves are weak but my determination makes up for it and got me through some rough times and made me achieve great things, finishing my two degrees on time (and at the same time), getting myself through my parents' death, curing myself of panic attacks without any medical help and moving to a different country with only a backpack for a love that seemed to worth it and it really did!

4. I pride myself in my high IQ, again something I was born with but I love it because it always helped me understand complex ideas quicker (and other things but at this point I already feel like I'm boasting and can I just wrap this up?).

5. Okay, one more... umm... I love the way I can write... I guess I can say that more when I write on my mother tongue, but when I posted short stories people were always captivated and I loved to read their comments, how they laughed and cried with the stories and wanted to hear more. I hope I can reach that one day with English as well.

tagging: twin-talons, prideofdurin, thewardenqueen, ghost-of-the-spire... whoever wants it really...

[rattrunner]

ghost-of-the-spire replied to your post: || OOC ||

{ Anonymous note to whoever is in charge of your manager, maybe? }

|| I'm gonna try maybe asking one of my supervisors. Her dad is a lawyer so maybe if I bring it up she can get the facts. ||

[blightbound-archive-blog]

Archer: "I am getting on my fucking Dragon Age blog just to make fun of you gdi"

[espritchevalier]

The Depths of the Beyond - {Closed}

Mist from the water was slowly rolling by as she stalked slowly through the shadows. Despite her lack of talent as a rogue, Josephine usually could manage to stay hidden. Her companions, on the other hand, where nothing of the sort. The young girls, former apprentices of the White Spire, nearly screeched at every sight and sound, thinking that the Templars still stalked their steps. Luckily, they remained calm enough for the small group of three to sneak past the Templar and guard patrols. 

It wasn't until they were safe in the arms of other apostates that she took a moment to breathe. Josephine hoped that the girl's journey would be as uneventful as tonight. A group of apostates would take them to small remote village near the Frostback Mountains. The presence of the Avvar usually deterred any Templars. 

Josephine sighed as slowly began the trek back to her home. 

[godspeaker]

Demon-struck // Cole & the Astvios

It was going to be a long, harsh winter, was what they seemed to be saying. The siblings heard it from the traders they passed, from men on the roads, from whispers in taverns and gossips in towns. Everywhere they went, there seemed to be talk of it - fear of deep snows to ensnare travellers, of colds to freeze livestock, of ice to break their horses' legs and ruin trade.

And yet, the more that Isolfr saw, she could only presume these men to be weak men - if the winter they had seen so far was any indication of what these northerners saw as 'harsh', it would be doing them a favour if the colds killed them off. This was not harsh - this was little more than ankle-deep snow and grey skies. Tchah! Those pitiful men should travel south, and try to eke out their livings in the wilds there! There, it was not a harsh winter until you could not see the top of your hut for the snow - it was not harsh until the winds had turned your fingers black and bitten away your skin. These weak, warm-blooded northerners knew nothing of winter!

Full of disdain for those men - no, they were not men - they should have removed their organs and worn dresses, for all that they were worth their gender - she had dismissed her brother's talk of finding a tavern for the night and opted instead to set up camp on the outskirts of the latest town that they had come across. Those godless settlements did not sit well with her - they were full of staring eyes, of men worth no more than sheep, men who knew nothing of the god and would gain her nothing for their company. She would much rather sleep beneath the open skies than in their piss-stinking taverns.

Crouched in the snows, she glanced up from where she was building a fire within a circle of stones. Her brother was hunkered perhaps four paces from her as he had been for the past half hour, staring distractedly at the silhouette of an abandoned farmhouse, and she clicked her tongue at him for his attention. "What is it?"

Shifting a little from his thoughts, the godspeaker pushed himself to his feet, the amulets in his hair chiming as he did so. "The villagers say this place is haunted," he said, gesturing to the building with a flick of his chin.

"And this scares you?" she said, baring her sharp teeth in a grin. "Tchah - you are not a child, Nikos. Only babes fear tales."

"It is not that," he said, too used to her scorn to be insulted by it. "There is... something. I can feel it."

Her gaze intensified a little. "A demon?"

"Perhaps," he agreed, pulling a bowl from his pack. "I will fetch snow for water; do not leave."

"Do not trip on your own feet, child Nikos," she retorted, with a burst of rough laughter.

Shaking his head in amusement, he slung the bowl under his arm, and with his other hand fingered the long hilt of a knife at his hip. He had not been lying - there was something there, in that building, pulling at the corner of his mind. Too curious to pass up investigating but not so foolish as to not go unarmed, he stepped lightly over the snows, eventually kneeling some paces from that empty doorway to scoop handfuls of snow into the vessel. As he worked, his gaze never once strayed from that blackened entrance. Whatever was in there, he would not sleep comfortably until his curiosity was sated...