#onwards!

[marlynnofmany]

HEY, so who's writing a November novel this year? The official organization may have combusted into confetti and scandal, but there doesn't need to be any kind of central authority for this.

(I honestly haven't used the website for more than a wordcount tracker and bragging rights in years. The socializing is all over the internet these days.)

I'll be working on finishing a certain sci-fi that I haven't had enough time for. Looking forward to that.

Who's with me??

[blade-beam-722]

My Intro Post

Hi, I’m Sword!! This is a blog dedicated to just posting wgatever comes to my mind (when I have the time…) and also talking with others!! I probably won’t post much because I’m not online a lot ehehehe….

I might post a lot about swords, swordfighting and also the phight tournament ive signed up for!! Other than that, I also really like talking about my friends….. (hi rocket hi medkit!!!!)

And don’t be afraid to put things in my inbox… i love talking to other inphernals :D

this is a phighting roleplay blog run by @jimmerzz0905!! the idea came to me while I was walking in p.e. lol

tags:

onwards! (regular posts)

to victory! (answered ask)

prepare yourself! (post with art/an image)

iiiiiii don’t really know what to put here but the dni for this blog is the same as my main… also please don’t get nasty in the inbox!! suggestive jokes are okay but please don’t straight up do porn in the sword phighting roleplay blog asks

i also really like swocket so expect to see that (and some other headcanons) incorporated here

[idontknowreallywhy]

(Explanation for this reposting spree here)

Composition (MIA Series Part 3)

Chapter 2 - Call

Virgil tries to reach his brother. Where words don’t seem to get through, perhaps there is another language he can use.

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But other times were better.

Times when Virgil sat by his bedside and Scott would half open his eyes and they’d just look at each other for minutes on end. The unmistakeable blue would be clouded in sedation, the whites still tinged with red, the delicate skin around the edges puffy and still a patchwork of too many colours. He couldn’t really talk, the drugs keeping him from screaming and trying to run on a half healed femur were too strong. Yet occasionally he would frown a little before huffing a sudden urgent breath, a twitch of the fingers entwined with Virgil’s telling him Scott was trying to communicate something important.

“I love you too, Scotty.”

Virgil knew his brother was in there, still being held prisoner in the dark even while his body was here. So he’d hold his hand and stroke his hair and gaze back at him as if he could reach in with his eyes and guide his brother to the surface. Into the light.

One morning, while watching helplessly as Scott twitched and whimpered in the throes of yet another nightmare, Virgil had started singing to him. Ever so softly, barely more than a whisper with pitch, he sang the song their mother had written for them, hoping she could help him reach his brother. His voice felt thin and fragile in this alien environment, but he was sure the tension in his brother’s sleeping face eased a little so he kept at it.

Over time he became bolder and let his voice resonate around the cold, fabric-free environment. Clearly hospitals weren’t designed with acoustics in mind yet they were accidentally quite stunning. He sang Scotty all sorts of things, songs they listened to together, ones he knew Scott and his college friends liked, the guitar solo theme from big bro’s favourite film. But always circling back to Mom’s song. One evening he looked up to see his father framed by doctors and the doorway, tears running down his face and Virgil’s voice faltered. Dad had gestured for him to continue, so he did. The medics swarmed over the equipment around Scott’s bed, frowning and pointing at things, noting down numbers. Conclusions were drawn. Nods. One little smile in his direction but nobody spoke to Virgil. Overcome with tiredness he rested his head next to Scott’s, his nose just brushing his brother’s ear, and silently dared them all to try to move him. They didn’t.

Time passed. Virgil had no clear idea of how much. They reduced the dosage of the meds he was taking and nothing untoward seemed to happen. He overheard a discussion in the hallway about discharge and management at home and he vowed to himself that if they took his bed he’d just sleep in the chair. Or, when Dad needed the chair, on the floor. Possibly he vowed it more loudly than he intended because while they didn’t take his bed, another chair materialised.

There were changes with Scott’s drug regime too, sedation reduced, but his wakeful times remained silent outside of the harsh outbursts of raw terror as he awoke from a nightmare. Sometimes he clutched Virgil’s arm so hard it left vivid bruises. But those were nothing compared the bruises left on Virgil’s heart when he looked into his Scotty’s eyes and saw the horror there.

So he sang to his brother and gazed into his eyes because he didn’t know what else to do.

Then, one afternoon, when Virgil had thought he was finally sleeping, Scott started to hum along with him.

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Previous chapter

Next chapter

[orcinus-the-orca]

The scariest thing when you’re treasure hunting in the middle of the night and keep inventory is NOT on. (Based on a true story, not clickbait).

I made this for my amazing friend @switch-shift ! Being able to work on such a large, but honestly very simple, piece was incredibly therapeutic. It took me roughly 3 weeks to complete. 10/10, Would do it again.

For scale, I used a 10 inch hoop.

[karoiseka]

The false sun shone down on small hamlet that Karo and the others had stopped in to help in Labyrinthos. The odd jobs and small chores were endless of course, but there was plenty of down-time in-between each task.

Karo was watching Alphinaud practice more with his nouliths, the nimble weapons dancing through the air as he pulled and pushed upon the aether to control them—already quite proficient with them despite the short amount of time since he had taken them on. His father's soulstone must have been packed with the knowledge he needed, taking to the art with little practice. Something had been nagging Karo though since first seeing the nouliths, and as her eyes flickered, following their dance, she finally stood—pausing just outside of their range until Alphinaud saw her.

The four short spears came to a rest hovering around him as he tilted his head with the unspoken question. Karo glanced at him briefly before her attention returned to the weapons.

"May I?" the desire to try the art burned in her, even has she was prepared for him to say no. They were his father's after all, a precious, priceless, gift. Despite his eyebrows almost disappearing into his hair with surprise, he gestured carefully offering them aetherically to her with a small bow.

"Of course! Do you need—" his voice trailed off as Karo carefully reached out with her magic to grasp the four weapons, letting them slowly drift around her. Alphinaud took a few steps back, retreating to the wall she had vacated, watching with awe as her eyes slowly closed. There was no stuttering or hesitation, none of the four lagged behind or was out of formation as they wove an intricate dance around the Miqo'te. Carefully—eyes still shut—she took a step, then turned, raising a hand up as the dance continued around her, changing in pattern at her gesture.

The other Scions had started to wander back to the square as she experimented with Alphinaud's new specialty. From the looks of it, he wasn't going to be the only one using the art. By ones and twos people gathered around the edge of the clearing—some pretending not to watch, others blatantly putting down their work for the moment to watch the Warrior of Light weaving magic. None but her companions knew she had never touched the art of the Sage before that moment—her control was ironclad.

A small smile graced Karo's lips before she exploded with healing magic. Wave after wave poured off her into the hamlet—Alphinaud already feeling his own energy returning. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she spun, first individual shields landing on herself, him, and then everyone in range, before she finally jumped, spinning in the air, and landing with a hand to the stones at her feet—a massive shield moving like a shock-wave to cover the entire village. Finally opening her eyes to the hushed whispers and awe surrounding her, Karo brushed off her knees before holding out the nouliths to Alphinaud.

"Full of surprises as usual, my friend," he grinned up at her as he sheathed the weapons upon his back and crossed his arms. "Where did you find a Sage stone?" his tone was genuinely curious as the Sharlayan stones were guarded fairly fiercely, each kept careful track of.

"I don't have one," Karo tried to keep her laughter to a minimum at his shocked expression, even as she reached into the pouch she kept close to her heart—the one with Hydaelyn's crystals, as well as her other specialization stones. When she held out her hand, there nestled in it wasn't the normal white and blue that he expected to see, but the brilliant amber of Azem.

"She used something similar enough that when I first saw you using them, I knew that I'd be able to pick it up. It took until now to realize why though," her thumb traced the symbol etched into the center of the stone as they watched it almost glow from within as if in joy of the new discovery.

"I guess I'm gonna need some of those for myself," their eyes met as Alphinaud started laughing.

"We'll find you some—if one of the crafters hasn't already overheard us and takes it upon themselves to craft you a set!" Karo internally winced at that thought, as much as she appreciated gifts, she was very particular about the weapons she took into battle. There would be time enough to explore all the possibilities and the extent of Azem's knowledge of the art, after they stopped Meteion.

[breakfastteatime]

Kind, personalised rejections from agents are both so lovely and sooooo haaaaaaard T^T

[greenycrimson]