#memoraia

[hoshishoujo-blog]

memoraia

White wings spread wide across her back as The Fly is activated. Where her other cards were she doesn’t know, but it troubles her every day, were they all right? After all they weren’t just magical cards, she considered each card her friend. So each day she traversed the city in hopes of finding them, thinking that maybe they’d been scattered once more.

Far above the city she could scope out a larger area, not having to worry about anyone seeing her as it seemed like many people here possessed magical powers of some kind. However, at this point she was unaware that her own powers had been limited, and it’s only when the wings upon her back begin to flicker and fade does she realise something is wrong.

“Huh?” Glancing back to see The Fly dematerialise back into it’s card state, realising her rather severe predicament. “Huh!?” Repeating herself, although her tone is far more urgent, followed by a loud scream as she begins to plummet back to the earth. But in some twist of good luck she falls directly into a large pond, breaking her fall with a large splash, the small wave flowing over the bank to drench a young boy wearing a large hat. Resurfacing with a loud gasp for air, not noticing the other straight away as she attempts to catch her breath. 

[wizardhuntingwright-blog]

Spinning Cogs | | (Closed)

memoraia

It was chaos.

The people ran through the streets like frightened rats, bunching together through the bottlenecks of alleyways and then scattered amongst the streets.

A nearby building went up in flames, then another’s windows were blown out from the inside, a fiery inferno raging forth from within. The sky was filled with smoke and ash, and hung in the air depriving it of oxygen.

In the midst of it was Willard. His face was covered in soot. In his hand he carried a wooden sword, and as the crowds stampeded by him he made his way back, through the hordes of people and towards the source of the explosions. He seemed unfazed. His expression was stern, possibly even angry.

Several people nearly lost their balance while trying to shove past him. He was like a brick wall, unable to be budged, slowly moving forward with a determined gait. Whatever he was doing-wherever he was going, it was with a specific purpose in mind.

The crowd began to taper off. As they escaped into whatever nook they could find, the street began to empty, and the smoke began to rise until there was a brief window of clarity beneath the flames.

The only things left were Willard, and the small one that stood on the other side of the street.

Willard’s time within the Hive hadn’t been long, but it was enough to collect a dossier. A list of names, faces, places, incidents-anything at all that had been floating through the underbelly of the Hive, anything that could help him piece together his purpose here and a means to escape. He was aware of what exactly this abomination was.

A destructive weapon created from magic, using magic to create more destruction.

Willard tightened his grip on the handle of his sword, and whistled for the thing’s attention.

He didn’t care about the battle raging between the two Hives, or that this abomination was wandering around causing destruction to the fake city. It was his job to destroy that creature. At the moment, little else mattered.

“You’re being stopped, weapon.”

And just like that, he was moving in for the kill.

[lonelittlehawke-blog]

☼

☼ - Something that/Someone who makes them happy.

Carver loves being praised and knowing he’s impressed people (but he’d never actually admit that out loud of course). Stroking his (non-existence) ego goes a a long way, too. As far someone who makes him happy, he liked being around his twin sister Bethany a lot, even though he nailed her braid to the bed once. they bickered a lot but she was the closest one to understand him regardless.

[lonelittlehawke-blog]

memoraia

【 ❂ 】 OK, well, that’s probably one of the creepiest things he’s ever seen. Alright, that’s a lie. He could live without the spiders that seemed to reside in everything cave in Ferelden ever. And a Hurlock was certainly nothing to write home about. This, however wasn’t like any darkspawn he’d ever seen. At first glance it looked like a small child, but without any kind of discernible physical body. Or eyes. Or face, in general. Just a black void of emptiness. A chill inwardly ran the length of his spine at the thought. Something from the fade, perhaps? Though, this is a strange form for a demon to take. 

  He inhaled sharply, hand hovering near the hilt of his dinky wooden sword (’Lotta’ good this thing is going to do.’), as he carefully approached the small figure, the air surrounding him heavy with caution and hostility. His intention wasn't to strike immediately, but he wanted to be prepared if it came to that.

❝ Maker’s breath, what ARE you? ❞

[asbrightandbrief]

Memories of Sorrow

Upon touching my muse, your muse is suddenly thrown into one of my muse’s tragic and painful memories. Send “Memories of Sorrow” to see a painful and tragic memory from my muse’s past.

You find a journal filled to the brim with entries. 

Day 301: My Dream

“I dream all the time now, but I don’t sleep well. I wake up tired every day. I guess that makes them nightmares, not dreams. Xion and Axel don’t come to the clock tower anymore. I thought maybe if I got everything off my chest with them, I might stop having the nightmares…but so much for testing that theory.”

It’s been ten minutes, give or take. Roxas is literally counting the seconds.Pretty soon, he’ll have to RTC. He bites into his ice cream, making a face in the process.They’re still not here.Ten more minutes. He wonders why. Did he do something? Was something wrong? If there was, wouldn’t they tell him? This was their spot. They were friends, and friends should tell each other when something is bothering them. But he was a hypocrite, because he’d never brought up the fact that he keeps waking up with wet stuff on his face to Xion. Or that he’s having dreams, and they make him so tired. He keeps meaning to, and it never works out. Maybe he doesn’t understand how friendship works after all.The sunset is becoming a darker red. He has to go soon.They used to talk and laugh all the time up here, every day. Axel would try to make some wise comment, Xion would rebuke it and Roxas would laugh. They’d rough house a little bit, eat their ice cream, then go home. Without that, it just didn’t feel like home anymore. And he didn’t understand why. His ice cream is melting, and he doesn’t know why. Normally it’s gone by now.He doesn’t like this, being by himself up here. He doesn’t understand why his chest is clenching so painfully and why his eyes feel heavy with that wet stuff. Is he sick? Roxas curls up, burying his head against his knees. The ice cream bar slips from his fingers and falls off the clock tower, but he pays it no mind. He’s lost his appetite, and his stomach hurts. He wants to understand, but he has no one to ask anymore.

[grapedoll-blog]

ツ

[grapedoll-blog]

memoraia ᕙ( * •̀ ᗜ •́ * )ᕗ

my opinion on;

character in general: vivi is basically the most important character square enix will ever write hands down thank you for playinghow they play them: nobody gets vivi the way mads gets vivi LIKE you do a really good job of mapping out his character I am just always in awe with how thorough you arethe mun: mads is my favorite surrogate little sister and I’m so glad to be able to write with you here @ citta!!!!

do i;

follow them: YEsrp with them: when will vivi get upwant to rp with them: I owe you everything weeps into handsship their character with mine: please keep your fire spell 1000 feet away from me

what is my;

overall opinion: I LVOE MADS