#thedevoutassassin

[myhoodieistasteful]

+The-DevoutAssassin

As he walked down the hall with the typical group of his friends, his eyes scanned the crowd, paying less attention to his friends while he looked for a specific face, a specific someone to stalk around. 

Altair never thought he could get attached, never thought he'd be so willingly following Malik around like a little puppy, but fuck it if he cares anymore. That nerd was truly something. Hot, good-looking, shy and most of all, hard to get. And Altair loved the last part with a burning passion, and it only made the game more exciting.

Finally locating his prey, Altair broke away from his group and slowly approached the tanned male, a small smirk showing as the man didn't notice him... Yet.

"Hey~"

[procellax]

the-devoutassassin ♔ discipleofthecreed ♔ destinyembraced ♔ twilight-swordsman ♔ rei-fue ♔ trinityflux ♔ askrachelshepard ♔ paradoxical-hero ♔ plunder-the-heavens ♔ warriormohawk started following you...

Unlike the first few nights she's become somewhat more prepared, gathering supplies and setting up camp before nightfall. However, prepared or not the danger still remained, she couldn't afford to rest eyes, in constant fear of her own life. It just meant if such dangers approached she'd be ready. Never had she thought in her twenty-one years she'd be thinking about how to stick an arrow through a mans throat...just thinking about it was horrifying enough. Knees held tightly up to her chest as the rain began to let up, the heavy pitter-patter had been almost deafening. 

In the silence ears caught a sharp snap, a stick breaking under heavy boots perhaps. Immediately her breath caught in her throat, momentarily frozen still at the prospect of a scavenger finding her. The fear remained but she took control of her limbs to grab her now trusty bow. While not as 'fresh' as she was upon her arrival on the island she was still by no means seasoned, her actions proving such. "Don't take another step, or I swear to god..." if she were to shoot, she'd be shooting at the dark.

[naito-san]

[ Let's pretend that this is Raitoning's URL. [/creys] ]

ooc; Mama Light! Oh, how I miss my lovely Raitoning. ; w ; You were the only Lightning I seriously roleplayed with, and to be honest, I kind of want to keep it that way? I don't know, you just capture her stoic behavior so well, and you're so professional about everything with your blogs that it's so admirable! You're Light is terse, yet her thoughts are just very...'Light!' I was really sad when you had to take a break on her; to be honest, it's you, Snow, and Serah that still keep me on my Noel. True facts!! I'm so glad to have met you, and so glad that I still keep in touch with you! I can only hope that our friendship and support for one another will continue...~ By the way, do you have a Skype? Because if you do, I will TOTALLY take note it, if you don't mind! u w u

[valorest]

First impression: your Sora is so /ridiculously/ adorable. During our old thread, you don't know how many times I squealed over your writing; Snow-mun can attest to that. HAHA. Just the childlike innocence and energy your Sora has is irresistible. >o< And I also /loved/ how you string thoughts and words together so fluently... when I saw that you made a Des account, I just had to follow. ; u ; And fff, you're adorable okay. I know I can be stern but I love the energy you bring to the dash! :'D

ooc;

OH MY GOD. I DIDN'T EVEN REBLOG THAT MEME, BUT I JUST --

/CRIES INCONSOLABLY. NO, YOU'RE REALLY TOO MUCH. SORRY FOR THE CAPS, I JUST GOT REALLY HAPPY WHEN YOU SENT ME THIS. I'm glad that my writing's alright with you! I'm always self-conscious about the way I portray Sora, and sometimes I feel that my writing style clashes with him and his characterization, but I'm glad I'm doing okay.

WEEPS. WHEN I FOUND OUT YOU MADE A MALIK ACC., I HAD TO FOLLOW TOO. YOU'RE TOO WONDERFUL, AND AN AMAZING WRITER. C'MERE SO I CAN LOVE ON YOU. OMFG. xD

[e4g1e]

the-devoutassassin

The "bleeding effect", as Lucy once told him in what seemed a century ago, was known to cause hallucinations, tricks of the mind where memories became more than transparent aftereffects. Back then, he'd clung to the inane belief that he'd be able to outrun any forthcoming visions through sheer willpower alone. Even if he did take crack shots at their treatment, it was rebukes with a grain of salt, a lighthearted attempt at paradoxical dark humor.

Then again, he hadn't exactly expected to find himself in the middle of Syria, completely lucid (if not being hooked up to the Animus this time around meant anything remotely good), and standing in front of the Assassins' Bureau with some Syrian man shouting ware prices at break-neck speed in the far distance. It was a dry place with none of the comforts of his actual sanity separating an ancestor's recollections from reality to keep him afloat, and well -- all be damned. Desmond Miles was finally cracking up.

"Okay, okay -- I know I was heading straight off the deep end, but I didn't think it was this bad. For the love of God, please tell me you're not going to start spouting Arabic." For a guy going nuts, he thought he'd kept his composure fairly well.