#pending verse

[divineprank]

In response to [x] || @gerudospiriit

"...Shouldn't you be ashamed of yourself?"

[kurcsu]

@out-filtrated from here [x]

Too much of anything would make him sick so he really didn’t know how this stranger was able to keep it up. Having that many energy drinks...it made his stomach churn just thinking about it. Cross took note of the wobbliness in the other’s limbs and despite it being none of his business or concern, he felt he had to do something to help. “Maybe you should sit down…”

The young trainer stood and offered up his seat on the bench to him. “What’s the reason for forcing yourself to stay awake?"

[safetydoesntexist]

it had all been a BLUR up to this point.   she returned to surrender to NEGAN, but instad found the sanctuary burning to the ground, walkers flooding the front gates. it was no question that someone successfully infiltrated the grounds, likely the alexandrians  — the group daryl was from.   she had taken shelter inside the empty building, hoping that she could keep a low profile for now, until she figured out what her best plan of action was.   it was only until she heard the footsteps that she stepped out of the shadows, stepping in front of the man with her gun aimed directly at his forehead.       ❛     —  who are you?     ❜

@spillcdblood / post ep starter !

[deliicatus-archive-blog]

Versus XIII (Verse) Character Outline:

Basic Statistics Name: Lunafreya Nox Fleuret Age: 20

Socioeconomic Level as a child: Daughter of politician

Socioeconomic Level as an adult: Royalty

Hometown: Tenebrae

Current Residence: Niflheim (and currently on the move)

Occupation: Princess

Talents/Skills: Affinity for white magic, sewing, and ballet.

Siblings (describe relationship): Ravus Nox Fleuret. They are little strained but she loves him dearly and wishes he'd stop the madness the empire is causing. He in turn is fiercely protective of her to the point of selfishness.

Stella Nox Fleuret(depending upon muse): Is very dependent on both of her siblings and is envious of Stella's more aggressive stance in life.

---- Physical Characteristics: Height: 5'5 Weight: 120 Race: Caucasian Eye Color: Periwinkle/Lavender Hair Color: Honey platinum Glasses or contact lenses (?): No ----- Skin color: Pale Shape of Face: Heart shaped Distinguishing features: Her eyes which are always sorrowful yet hold hints of hidden steel. How does he/she dress: Wore regal gowns often white, blue and gold. After being taken, she switches to more casual clothing; such as jackets, skirts etc and wears more pastel colors. Always wears her hair loose. Mannerisms: Always has her hands folded, but often is hunched over in a poor attempt to hide from others. Plays with her hair when frustrated. Sighs a lot. Refuses to look people directly in the eyes.

Habits: (smoking, drinking etc.): None but she often thinks about doing something to take her mind off things.

Health: Good.

Hobbies: Sewing, collecting stickers, flower arranging, and doodling little comics.

Speech patterns: Very subdued, quiet, speaking in gentle tones even when angered. She tries to be formal at all times, not wanting to make a mistake in calling someone an incorrect title.

Disabilities: None

Style (Elegant, shabby etc.): Has an air of grace, that can easily mask her anxious nature.

Greatest flaw: Her inability to speak up.

Best quality: Her unfailing devotion. ---- Intellectual/Mental/Personality Attributes and Attitudes 

Educational Background: Well rounded with lots of special tutors.

Intelligence Level: Fairly intelligent, but nothing remarkable.

Any Mental Illnesses: Severe depression and anxiety.

How does Character see himself/herself: As weak and unremarkable. A failure to people and a bad person for not trying to stop tragedies from occurring.

How does Character believe he/she is perceived by others: Being the imperial princess, she knows people view her as a monster outside her home country, for having no say on events and attacks. ----- How self-confident is the character: No confidence, but small bursts come forth when she's sure of herself.

Does the character seem ruled by emotion or logic or some combination thereof: Emotion. In her more moving moments, she acts from her heart.

What would most embarass this character: Being asked to speak in a large crowd, being called pretty, and praise. ----- Emotional Characteristics: Strengths/Weaknesses: Introvert or Extrovert: Introvert How does the character deal with anger: Reacts sharply, and sometimes physically.

With sadness: Cries and tries to stay away from others, not wanting to be a burden. With conflict: Tries to avoid, but would do her best if she needed to be in frontlines.

With change: She is use to change, as she had to adjust to her new life as princess. With loss: She'd snap.

What does the character want out of life: Luna is unsure of she wants. But is very much interested in freedom. What would the character like to change in his/her life: She would like to be more proactive, and be free.

What motivates this character: Her desire to right what's been wronged. What frightens this character: Many things but war and bloodshed are the front runner. 

What makes this character happy: Seeing others around her happy.

Is the character judgmental of others: Very, she has a hard time trusting people and as such Luna sometimes will judge a person far too quickly.

Is the character generous or stingy: Generous, if she trusts you.

Is the character generally polite or rude: Incredibly polite, afraid to say anything rude.

[inktoivory]

@halfaghst liked this for a starter from Lucas

Lucas sighed. Turning to Danny, his facial expression showing annoyance. Not at the other boy but.. At everything. "When do you think we start feeling like the world is ours?"

[shadovan]

@fcllxn-stcr (cont.)

"Can you... keep me?" Astarion was caught off guard. "Well... That depends, I suppose. Not that I'm overly keen on being kept as if I'm someone's pet, as you could imagine."

The elf's brow furrowed as he gave a little thought. Of course, not every scenario in his mind was a bad one, but being Cazador's pawn for as long as he was... It was hard not to imagine.

"Say, hypothetically, if I were to say yes, what's in it for me?"

Well, perhaps that hadn't been the best wording. Especially not tossed about at someone who had likely had endured a less than pleasant history of being 'kept,' but oft times the words slipped out of Tareque's mouth before he could filter them. Such as it was. Fortunately, Astarion merely looked more confused than offended... or so he hoped.

Oh, was he actually playing along?

The corners of the lich's lips quirked, pleased. There were so many things he could say, most of them lewd and highly inappropriate, but... there was a time and place for that sort of commentary, and even Tareque recognized that. (Contrary to the belief of most.)

"Ah, anything in my power to grant you," he promised, because what more could he offer than that? At least genuinely. -- Then, with a chuckle and a soft smile, Tareque shook his head, "Be calm... I merely jest. Not that I would object, of course. I am no fool."

Sitting back in the air as casually as one might in a chair, he lit his pipe, looking at the elf with curiosity for a long moment. "What would you ask for, if you could?"

[divineprank]

Let's get your high, unfiltered if not nonsensical opinion about Nabooru. Or, if you had her in front of you right this second, what would you say to her?

Leaning back into his nest of pillows, Ganondorf offers a slow blink of his unfocused ambers as his mind drifts in and out of clarity. It's an ocean of words that attack his unprepared ears, unfiltered noise that threaten his already-delayed senses, but it's with the mention of Nabooru's name that his interest his piqued and without realizing it, the King of Thieves, compromised as he is, pushes himself back upright in a display of interest.

"Nabooru..." He parrots, a lazy smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He allows a soft laugh to escape him, the sound unusually light for someone who takes himself as seriously as Ganondorf, a man so often imposing and threatening.

"Nabooru." He utters again, buying himself time to make sense of the half-understood thoughts and the collection of confusing and frustrating and painful and wonderful, heartwarming emotions in which he can't quite figure out exactly what words he can apply to.

"She is... an oasis and a sandstorm rolled into one." His voice noticeably slurs as he finally provides an answer. "Nabooru is the best and worst thing that has happened to me." He leaves it at that for several moments; the king's brow sinking deep into his features, marking his face with ugly creases as he truly considers his own words and what exactly he means to imply to his long history.

With eyes closed, he continues traveling along his winding mental path, "Her sands attack my eyes; she stings me and clouds my visions. She dries my lips and fills my lungs and I am swept up in her storm completely... But she is the water that heals me. I drink from her and I am refreshed. Her gentle touch cleanses my skin and closes my wounds. .. I hate how I need her, but I am addicted to the way in which she ravages every part of me."

Upon falling silent once more, he offers a final shift of his body against his pillows; eyes not opening themselves up to the world again. No, with the way he sinks further into his comfortable nest and the deep lungfuls he breathes, it becomes evident that Ganondorf has drifted off to sleep.

Whether or not he will remember this remains to be seen.

[divineprank]

🍺 {from @thunderoustransmuter}

[Find my muse drunk! - CLOSED]

Stumbling through the desert night, his boots crunching against the sand is the only sound that competes with the ringing in his ears. The revelry of the tavern he'd just inhabited has lost its appeal, instead replaced by the growing haze of alcohol and the desire for solitude.

Amidst the shifting dunes of his homeland, a distant sound does reach his ears. The soft and rhythmic padding of paws against the desert floor, growing closer with every passing second. Ganondorf's brow sinks in a mix of resignation and bitter amusement as he recognizes the sound.

As the wolf approaches, Ganondorf leans against the nearby sandstone architecture of the desert town; its cold surface a temporary respite from his unsteady steps.

"Seems you and that necklace of yours have found me again," He doesn't bother looking over as he musters his words, the king's voice laced with only weary tolerance.