Cassius scowls, arms folded across his chest now. It hadn’t taken much time to learn not to aggravate Cicero when it came to his teasing. Though the man certainly didn’t make that easy.
A smirk formed in the corners of his mouth as he tilted his head in curiosity. Bemused somehow by the assassin’s conclusion.
“Who says that I think there will be anything after?” He rasps, barely able to suppress a snort. “I suppose if there is an after, my aim is to die horrifically far, far away from you. And everyone else that might annoy me.”
‘As always’ was the truth through and through. The more the other seemed irritated with him, the harder he’d push. Then they’d end up fighting and grumpy. It was always best to just endure long enough to let him calm himself down.
Cicero shrugs at Cassius’ question.
“I sure as hell hope there isn’t. But, should there be, I’m sure Hell, or whatever you equate, shall be large. Large enough for the rest of us. Maybe I’ll try finding you. If only to pester and make you miserable even in death.”
@iinxsearchofxisolde liked for a starter of Ras with kids :D
It was fine he told himself. He trusted Tristan, and he trusted Olin. But shots weren’t something he had access to with Anna when she was alive. So this “vaccine” ordeal had the mercenary on edge.
Vidar must have sensed his father’s unease as the toddler, normally shy to begin with, had become even more withdrawn and started to cry whenever the medical doctor got too close with the needle.
“I don’t see how poking our son is going to be helpful.” Raserei finally spoke. He wasn’t medically inclined like most from the Wastes even if his early life was spent with an advanced cult.
“How is putting a virus in our son going to help him fight against it?!”
♥ What's the WORST thing that has happened to you rp wise?
THE SALTY AF MUNDAY MEME || accepting
This one is going under a cut because it’s personal.
Probably the time I was manipulated, used and guilt tripped for a solid year and a half (or 2? I can’t even remember how long, it was just very long). Unfortunately, it’s my own fault because I didn’t put my foot down for such a long time, but I’m an empath and I really put myself in other people’s shoes, which is bad because it means I was easily manipulated and used.
I’ve had VERY little issues with the DARP community. I’ve been around for almost 6 years now, and honestly, 99.9% of my experience has been so positive, so I don’t like to complain. But this wasn’t just me it affected, it was some of my longer term RP partners who have still yet to come back because they were chased away, and that makes me sad and angry at the same time that they felt they had to leave because of a toxic person.
I have put my characters through things I never wanted to or I knew felt very uncanon to them to please others because I was afraid of hurting people’s feelings, and I have also written things I did not want to so I wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feelings by saying no. I don’t care so much about myself being uncomfortable, but I do care about forcing my characters into situations I knew they never wanted to be in just to try and make someone else happy. It hurt me a lot by hurting my muses, even though I’m aware they’re not real people.
I won’t go into the details, because it’s long and unnecessary, and it’s honestly all behind me anyway, but it was a life lesson, and a hard leaned one. My mental health turned so bad that I ended up getting incredibly sick, and that’s unfortunately what triggered my autoimmune disorders (which I know would have been triggered eventually most likely by age anyway, but that’s what the doctor said).
I think the big lesson was to know myself enough to say stop and no. Honestly, that time in my life, I did let RP consume me a lot because I had loads of free time, and it’s a good thing I’m working full time now because it does allow me to distance myself and understand that my personal life will always come before RP and my life here on tumblr. That I will write when I am comfortable and free to, and that I will not feel guilty when I can’t get to threads as quickly as I used to.
It’s also a lesson to never force yourself to write things you don’t want to, especially when it comes to knowing it’s not what your muses want. My muses have always written themselves, which was why it made me sick to participate in forcing them to be other people for someone else’s sake. It KILLED me to do that, but it was the sacrifice I had been willing to make to keep someone else happy. I also do not appreciate my muses being pressured into sex because someone feels like they aren’t getting enough smut. Whether it’s IC or not, it’s still a form of sexual assault and that does NOT sit well with me (or my muses).
I also do not tolerate having to change the way I run my blog to suit someone else. I don’t mind tagging a trigger here or there, but when I am forced to tag every single one of my RP partners so someone can blacklist them, just un-fucking-follow me.
I have grown a lot, and I have also learned a lot about myself over the years and through that difficult time. I have learned to respect myself and my muses wishes more, and for that I am at least very thankful.
“I go by the rule ‘Has everyone had a chance to glimpse me’ if that helps you narrow the time down.” He offers while scanning the rest of the crowd for nearly the fourth time.
“I suppose you could up and leave the moment you walked in if you truly wanted to- but then what sort of impression would that make?”
She lets out a small sigh and takes another sip of her drink. Of course, the man was correct. Her father was a somewhat well - known doctor and her being there looked good for him as well, even if she herself hated all the small talk and stares. She hadn’t even been allowed to bring her dogs with her.
“ The impression that I don’t care about parties or reputations as much as my father does. “ she responds, inclining her head to her father mingling with other men whose professions she couldn’t be bothered to remember, “ What about yourself ? Rather be somewhere else ? “
“BECAUSE YOU HAVE A SEVERE BURN ON THE UNDERSIDE OF YOUR ARM, which is a particularly difficult spot to treat on your own. to clean it, you’ll have to contort yourself in various uncomfortable ways — and even then it’s difficult to assess the extent of the damage. i was trying to save you from the embarrassment of dealing with it alone.” her way of saying thank you for the surprise backup against that group of surprisingly well-armed raiders. probably members of the forge, if the flamethrower one used is any indication.
viktoria sticks her vertibird blade into the dirt and rests her elbow on its hilt. the start of a grin tugs at her mouth for the briefest of moments: tired, amused.
“but since you seem so keen on taking care of it yourself, i think i’ll just watch. make sure those forged raiders don’t come back.”
Damn but she hated being lost! Usually, Kit has an excellent sense of direction and even if she’d never visited a place before, a quick virtual tour on ‘Google Maps’, along with reading up about the area and she could maneuver herself about quite adeptly.
Of course she blamed the lack of network coverage for now, not having the faintest clue where she was. She looked around at the people passing by, most of whom seemed way to busy or grumpy to take the time to assist in her quest. Though there was one face who stood out - appearing a bit more pleasant. Her gut feelings about others were mostly spot on, so she took a chance and approached, tapping the man on the shoulder from where she stood at his side as she asked “I’m sorry to bother you, but please could you point me in the direction of the hospital? I’m rather confused by all these numbered-instead-of-named streets”.
Jacob. Jacob. Jacob. Staci never wants to talk about what he’s gone through. He never wants to face what happened to him and how it was bad and how it didn’t make him strong. Staci wants to repress those thoughts and not go through them ever again.
