#yafaemi

[twelvesblades]

*flips through screenshots* She's so cute

[thefreelanceangel]

Not Over It (from aubrieault's main blog ^^)

“I suppose you could say I’ve never quite gotten over an incident from my childhood. Granted, I’m much better about it now, but I will never stop feeling that sudden stab of betrayal when I remember how Seifer put Dawne behind him, to protect her from me. With all the years that have passed and everything that’s transpired since, you would think that memory should lose the ability to hurt. And yet... Just recalling the expression on his face at the time... It still does.” 

[twelveswood]

❤ How long have you been RPing?

*steeples my fingers* See, I am not quite positive, my earliest memories of RP were in middle school, but my most meaningful stuff started in high school with @ishgard. I just know that wasn’t the START… because I was RPing neopets and what-have-you well before we met. I just can’t quite pin my age down, but I’d say darn close to 20 years of RPing. I didn’t even know what I was doing at that age, but it was fun.

[autumnslance]

3. is there a muse you never write, but want to write more?

I should write more for Dark, C’oretta, and Iyna in general, but Aeryn’s easier currently. Unless I need some silliness; C’oretta’s been good for most lighthearted things.

I still have an itch to write for two of my WoW mains, Alynore and Vember, now and again. For some of the WoW chars, I mostly want to rewrite some of the stories I liked best and archive them on the handy site of our own for that. I probably could do little stories or blurbs or headcanons about them now, ignoring the plot of BfA as I haven’t played since like, midway through Legion.

Vember especially is dear to me, and ended up being around my own age (Alynore I think is either late 20s or early 30s by this point, I’d have to look). It took me years of sitting on Vember’s concept, and gathering inspiration, for her to finally be realized into an actual roleplayed character, and she’s definitely one of my favorites.

I would like to write more for my current D&D characters. Nevah is the newest one; a half-elven cleric in a Dragonheist campaign that runs every so often with online pals. Her elven half is drow, so there’s a bit of a Westside Story element to her background, and it opens up certain options in the plot. She’s very young and naive and too sweet for Waterdeep.

On other weeks, the online group does an Exandria campaign, and my tiefling bard, Clarity, is a former Chained Oblivion cultist who escaped that life with another tiefling girl who was meant to be a sacrifice, but became her best friend instead. Most people mistake them for sisters–including most of their adventuring party. I wouldn’t mind writing more of Clarity’s history, or stuff she does on the side when the party’s got downtime.

Grilka also started out as a Dragonheist character for the local game, a half-orc Oath of Ancients paladin of Mielikki. We wrapped up that adventure path (and DH is modular enough as written, plus however your GM spins it, that there are still various surprises) and have moved on to custom Sword Coast adventures, but she is…difficult. I have played her for a year and a half and know very little of her backstory. She’s simply honest and forthright and the long-suffering Mom Friend of her bunch of degenerate not-quite-criminals (our Actual cleric, the one who heals, is the Dad Friend so it works out, mostly, kinda, sorta).

[mintdrop]

（．＿．）: Do you think you are an awkward person? & ℨ: If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?

an awkward person… absolutely. I suffer from really severe social anxiety and it’s basically made it impossible for me to talk to people like a normal human sdkfjdsf. even online, I have to talk with people as if they’re a friend I’ve known for years because otherwise I freeze up and start overthinking every little thing I’ve said to them, and eventually end up dropping contact because I think I’ve screwed up. sometimes i’m scared to even join PFs on XIV because it means people will talk to me _(:3 」∠)_

as for where I’d go, the obvious answer is Japan.. for both weeby and non-weeby reasons. To pick a non-obvious answer, I really want to go to Italy! I have a lot of italian mutuals on twitter who post pictures and the country just seems so beautiful.

[fae-fire]

🔊 : How important do you stress OOC communication? What things do you want communicated? Do you prefer things to be kept a surprise or do you like planning things out?

Literally JUST answered this here haha

Thanks for the ask <3

[furymint]

💋 "COME HERE AT ONCE AND GIVE GRANDMA YUN A BIG SMOOCH NOLANEL. I SHALL ALSO PINCH YOUR CHEEK AND GIVE YOU A ROLANBERRY CANDY AND 20 GIL AS ALLOWANCE."

Nolanel woke on the floor, body an agony and senses a blur. Distorted noise squirmed around him, sweeping over him and pressing into his skin like water. But the lake did not lap over his head, and the floor was more steady than sand: his numb hands dragged against the shriveling wood and caught on exposed nails. His eyes opened to wraiths, and he knew he was dead.

Then foam spilled to the counter, not from some man's mouth, and tin screamed and coin rattled. He became aware of a fire, contained behind a grate, as if those red-flashing bars could hold its frenzy. It was so far away, but his body blazed with unnatural heat. Nolanel groaned and tugged at his collar, but the thick knot of his necktie stayed like a noose. He opened his mouth to breath just to see if he could.

Even the air was hot. It clawed against the dry roof of his mouth and he thought of blood, but memory chased thought away.

Shouting and pushing and a girl's neck in his hand. No-- her slim shoulder in his hand, and his fingers found no place but to reach across her nape. Young, was she? Why in this hell?

The current uproar returned halfway, bringing the past back. Familiar voices beat him, their owner's hands clapping to his back as if he were being led. He was: every word was a command-- but that made more sense than the rest. Every word is a command.

"Prissy old maid!" "Feran, get up you skittish bastard, be a man!" "Go on, get in there. Show her."

His neck cracked as his head lolled forward. The word "wait" created a wallpaper of itself in his mind. Just wait-- don't be rash. Rashness was for battle, not for home.

But home? Is that were these wraiths lived? Not in some gorge or trench or coffin? He could not see the sky here. Only candles burning low in a chipping chandelier. Voices laughed.

But be rash for once, be a man.

He tried to ask for permission, but his mouth was too full of dread, so when he kissed her she went frigid and cold and all his body screamed to forget that because he was ice too.

Nolanel reeled and his head split. He forced his eyes open. Wait-- what was her name? What color her hair, and how cold her stare? His legs stretched limp before him and his foot knocked into the table post. Someone stepped over him. The spur on their boot glinted. Paper cards hissed against the tabletop. A woman’s voice shouted for last calls.

Nolanel pressed himself to the bar wall and hissed a dolorous apology to no one: the girl didn’t need it.

She took half his gil and wore a plate from his gauntlet as a hair clip.

[ronsenboobi]

mawd i must know is sairsel the hockey player or the figure skater

you know i saw this and i was like “wow i need to think about this and not just succumb to my quebecer bias for hockey” but i don’t. i don’t. he has zero grace. he’s a hockey player and more importantly, a defenceman