#viciousgrace

[laperlina]

hi ILY <3

ME EXPERIENCING LIFE NOW THAT VIA'S BACK

[thriceheaded]

winks at u

winks at u with the opposite eye to maintain balance

[stormbrained]

Is there one trope you can’t stand?

Who is an author that inspires you?

What is one thing you’d wish to see more in the rp community?

MUN QUESTIONS !

Is there one trope you can’t stand?

already answered!

Who is an author that inspires you?

AUGH FUCK. so many. tamsyn muir has me in a chokehold currently! her writing style is both evocative but very irreverent. i've been rotating the words "you can't take loved away" ever since i read them and it hurts worse every time

What is one thing you’d wish to see more in the rp community?

more spy aus. thank you.

[blacknighted]

@viciousgrace asked: no one can be independent of other people completely. (from miss lyanna stark.) / PROMPTS FROM NORMAL PEOPLE: still accepting.

"Aye, ma'am. I believe you." He says it and means it. And of course he does, doesn't he? He's Henry of Skalitz, and his heart's not his own.

But then, it is in his chest, isn't it?, fluttering as though a magpie's enchanted by a diamond. It's not all his own, he knows that, just as his laughter can be loved on by the maidens next door, but it's got to mean something that it's yet in his body. Something grand. Something bigger and mighty and fiercer than him. To Henry, he feels them all like phantoms, those whispers of his loved ones cradled past his ribs. He feels as though a very big loom, a loom wrapped in flesh and the glint of a cuirass, and quietly, those threads of those folk who have known and loved him... They're spinning. He looks at her. Mercifully, he finds eyes more tender than fraught with pity. But it's not the same, is it? he wonders, with them festering inside than breathing being out here? —she'll get it. After all, what is a girl if not the will of her family? Henry frowns. Quit moping, Henry. About them, the roaring fête goes as the rich sherry's poured. "Sorry. I didn't mean to worry you, my lady. Promise. I hear you're fond of flowers, aye? I mean no disrespect, but I didn't think that included them wallflower ones." Oh! Funny!

[s1dew4ys]

taran wants to annoy @viciousgrace 's emily wilde

THINGS HAD BECOME AWFULLY BORING. really he didn't understand why his nephew couldn't humor him with a war or two. he could practically feel his bones become dust due to not being used. without war what was he supposed to do? listen to the court? dabble in politics? he shudders at his own line of thinking. he couldn't remember if he had sat down before emily or after. the fact didn't matter. she wasn't paying him any attention as she scribbled in one of those notebooks again. he'd save her with his conversation. ❝ you know, it's not too late to throw a ball to celebrate your marriage. ❞ he gives a lazy wave of his hand. ❝ don't humans adore anniversaries? we could cover you in an onyx gem gown. i'm sure my nephew would adore it. ❞

[archaeval]

@viciousgrace gets a surprise starter ;;

HOURS HAD PASSED IN SILENCE with nothing more than the whisper of a turning page to break it. Ruby had been reading this particular tome for years, trying to make sense of the madman's ramblings that hid arcane truths, though she couldn't guess at what Zisa had chosen to read -- only that it seemed to displease the woman. Ruby's curiosity burned, an eternal flame that drove her to break the peace that had lasted for so long. "What eats at you, my dear? You turn the pages as if they themselves have caused offense."

[recitedemise]

He would say that life isn't fair; however, were he to do that, he may as well go for the whole nine yards. See, life isn't fair, dear Warden, and the sky up above them shivers endless and blue -- except! Well, it isn't blue, is it?, trembling as it is with the blustering of a storm? He looks. It's ugly and throbbing and monochromatic. Grey. Summer's warm, he would tell her, but that's clearly wrong, too.

Between them, their meager candle crackles near gutturally on its pathetic last fumes. It's unseasonably chilly, he grouses, nipping enough already to waltz, waltz, slither like some viper past his robes. Still, Gale figures that's the normal in this baffling wasteland, and as it were, novelty, he's realizing, only comes in droves. Together, they sit blighted, one sick for duty and another for a love. Before, perhaps these reasons would've struck them noble, but reckoning with his body as it aches to the bone? To be honest, there's a hardly a way to deal with it.

Nonetheless, Gale busies with his cup, his paltry, watered vintage that tiptoes on borderline swill. The mood should be somber, gussied like a widow at her late love's wake, but the smile he wears bears no hurt at all. He even laughs. From his chest, it rumbles like a river as he knits his brow. "This isn't exactly a game I've indulged in much since my more notorious youth, but I imagine," he jokes, "that there are fewer times better suited for rebellion than ours." The storeroom's so cold. "Right then. Perhaps we should get a little more serious. Beatrize." Will she sip? "Never have I ever regretted those choices that led here." / @viciousgrace, ♡ liked for a starter.

[zagubionywilk]

@viciousgrace​  --   ❛  i  did  a  lot  wrong  that  i  can’t  make  right .  ❜ from lyanna stark    //     𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯 𝑶𝑭 𝑨𝑵 𝑶𝑷𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑻

       >> ⚔️ <<           THE LEAST ONE CAN DO IS BE    self aware of ones transgressions.    the witcher has lived long enough to know that to be true    ;    or at least useful to continue forth and not do the    same    TRANSGRESSIONS    again.

          ❝           I SEE.    IN TRUTH   you’re doing better than most if you know what you did cannot be fixed.    what do you plan to do going forward.    if anything.         ❞        he gives glance over to lyanna as the wolf of non stark blood continued to    BRUSH HIS HORSE’S COAT.