#ghsting

[theharellan]

@ghsting​: Happy belated Valentine’s!!!!!

I’m keeping this forever thanks.

[altusredemptor]

@ghsting

          Snow in his boots is the worst of his problems. He repeats this to himself every hour or so as if it’ll ring true at some point: snow in his boots is the long and short of it, and anything else that happens to be wrong is occurring to some other, less fortunate Dorian. He trudges alone, for the most part, a distrusted Vint hedging outside the clumps of soldiers and civilians that’d naturally formed. Hiking is not his strong suit; he’s been slowly falling to the rear.

          The scent of smoke still strikes him with every odd shift in the wind. Haven’s destruction had been absolute, blown to little pieces by templars of all detestable things, the ramifications of which has kept his mind occupied through the frozen slog to... somewhere, eventually. The Herald has let them believe there’s a safe place at the end of all this, but Dorian isn’t quite the optimistic fool to think they’ll all survive that long. He feels them die, if they’re close enough -- the souls of the mortally wounded finding some warmer, kinder place, with any luck. Speaking of souls --

          The young man who’d appeared so abruptly at the gates, speaking in riddles. Had he mentioned his name? Had he lived? Despondency falls over Dorian anew, and reflexively, he casts a look around as if it’d produce him somehow.

          So many dead.

[glandivall]

@ghsting​ | starter call.

         COLE looked as though he were barely nineteen. It was a thought that continued to float through his mind unbidden, every time his eyes cut to look at him on their journey to wherever the Inquisitor deemed necessary. But Cole wasn’t a boy, nor was he human. Was he human ? Saren didn’t understand the complexities of it all, but he knew one thing: magic always held the threat of demons. The mysterious boy hadn’t shown any aggression towards them, but his perplexing commentary and bizarre behavior sometimes made him question his intentions. 

❝ Cole, ❞ he braves, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, ❝ do you remember anythin’ from... before all this ? ❞ 

[hawkeyde]

hawke isn’t sure how he feels about this one.  there’s an endearing nature to him, of course, little .. strange .. blonde spirit boy that smiles at flowers and nugs and does other ... endearing things.  though the searching your soul part, hawke could do without. 

so when said boy sits opposite him, in the field in the grass, as honey sits and sharpens the blade of his mage he is mildly unsettled.   he could do without having his fortune told right now.       ❝ you don’t make any sound when you move, you know. ❞        he grumbles, amid the shink !!  of sharpener against blade.        ❝ perhaps you should wear a bell. ❞

@ghsting​

♡ ‘d

[eatrude]

@ghsting​ / sc. 

“ Many people are afraid of the dark -- it is the most common fear among us.  The dark and the cold tap into something awful and primal in us.  It’s alright to be afraid.  But you are better than your fear. “ 

[wulfein]

@ghsting / sc.  ↳  NEVER AGAIN / BREAKING BENJAMIN

“ beautiful anger, breaking the pattern -- show me what’s left. “ 

[wulfein]

" Chains, heavy and cold. It bores like the stares of a lopsided jury. Despair is there in the dark, but not as loud as the anger. Blazing Red. You clinged to it because if you didn't you'd know you were alone. "

UNPROMPTED ASKS || always accepting ! 

Wulf stills.  He doesn’t know much about spirits, personally -- but he has come to know a little about Cole.  He wants to HELP.  ( He can’t help this. )  Rabbit, sensing his companions distress and rising hurt, whines beside him and nudges Wulf’s hand. 

“ They were.  Heavy, that is -- heavier than I ever thought irons could be ... and they stared at me like I’d been caught red handed !   Like I didn’t have an alibi ... like I wasn’t found in my wife’s bed that morning, like someone had seen me because someone said they did ... I was found guilty on a farce of a trial ... I have every right to be angry.  It was easier to be angry.  I’m still angry. “  

He sighs, heavy as the irons that left deep ridges in his wrists, that cut and bled him when he pulled and twisted at them.  ( He thought he’d hang.  He didn’t.  But that doesn’t mean he didn’t die.  The place they sent him was as awful as death -- it might as well have been death.   The man he’d been, who grew up peaceful and soft, died there.  Only Wulf was left in his wake.  Angry and unable to control it. ) 

[jaskicr-a]

@ghsting replied: ladies.

Only ladies? ��

how silly of him! gentlemen as well. winks