Blood Regent: FaithfulThe beads were cold on his fingertips. The old brick of the church smelled of mold; corroded by the decades of winds breezing up from the loch.Blood Regent: Faithful by OfOneSoul
“O my God, I am heartfully sorry for having offended thee,” he rolled the bead along the edge of his finger. The words spilled from his lips, memorized but still genuine. He lifted the stick until the candle finally breathed flame.
“- and I detest all my sins because of Thy just punishment, but most of all because I have offended Thee my God…”
“Garrett,” a voice called from behind him.
“- Who is all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve…”
“Garrett, haven’t you asked enough?” Garrett felt a hand brush his shoulder. His scar rubbed against the cloth and the feeling was unpleasant.
“That is the point of repentance, Duncan. It will never be enough. Leave me to my prayers, please.”
Garrett watched Duncan’s shadow dance across the walls. He p
DIMIDIUM - (3) Mysteries3. MysteriesDIMIDIUM - (3) Mysteries by Jubchili
The wind had died down as the group reached the end of the plains.
After a bit of walking the group had finally reached the border line of the plains and the beginning of the crystal outcrop. Small and medium sized crystals were protruding from the ground like tall towers suddenly appearing on the horizon of a plain.
"Look. Over there", Aleria pointed towards the crystals,"We've come to the start of the crystal terrain".
The crytals protruded from the ground in single narrow spikes with needle sharp tips - each one at least fifteen feet tall, creating an infinite forest of white, yellow, pink and blue hues.
The group walked on a little further towards the crystals. Zaara's and Seph's eyes darted from crystal to crystal, admiring their shiny, smooth surfaces. They were scattered quite far from each other.
A high echo of voices filled the silence in the air, causing all but Aleria to jump. Zaara and Seph looked around but found nothing but the crystals. Zaara almost re
Shall I? (Dragon Age)S’raaka Adaar did not look good in a dress. It could also be said that she looked ridiculous and certainly out of place.Shall I? (Dragon Age) by Armaiti-Zarich
The crinoline skirt of the dress made her hips look wider than usual and with her silvery skin, horns and pale hair she stood out of the swirling, chattering crowd like a mountain on the verge of a valley.
So much for a masquerade—no mask, however elaborate, could conceal the dramatic difference of figure and race. She was an outsider among the pompous nobles, upstart felons and wealthy merchant princes.
Speaking of merchant princes, the dwarf at the Inquisitor’s side coughed as if to alert his company to an incoming gush of speech—and speak he did: “Truly your beauty stands out among the lessers, Horny.”
“One more word and I’ll teach you the truths of pain, dwarf.”
“Charmed.” he chuckled, grabbing the first glass of spirits that came within his reach.
S’raaka looked around—this was no plac
Who Am I? (Mass Effect/Star Wars)Sillani was filled with anger and excitement of battling that was beyond her control. Her bright blue lightsaber cut through armour and flesh alike, as she slashed at her enemies. There was nothing but vengeance and killing on her mind and she knew not where she left the mercenary accompanying her, she only knew that he was not anywhere near. It did not matter; nothing would stand between her and the people that were responsible for her memory loss and death of tens of good scientists that worked on the project of safe colonising Eletania.Who Am I? (Mass Effect/Star Wars) by Armaiti-Zarich
There was but one last obstacle between her and her last target—Sillani put her lightsaber through the door and fried the lock. A single asari stood behind the door, high on biotic drug Minagen X3, which enhanced her biotic powers. Sillani used the Force to fling the asari against the wall and approached her, her blue lightsaber high above the Jedi’s own head, prepared for the one last strike. The asari, however, got up on her feet and es
All That Remains (Call of Duty)He looked on the address he had scribbled on the paper, before stepping out of car. Yes, this was the right address. He inhaled the heavy Edinburgh air; it smelled of rain and soon enough, the grey clouds, which currently encircled the sky, would bring true Scottish dreich.All That Remains (Call of Duty) by Armaiti-Zarich
He went up the stairs to the second floor, and stopped in front of a particular door. MacTavish the doorbell said. He pressed it and waited as he heard it ring inside.
A woman opened the door, a pretty thing—ginger hair, blue eyes, soft freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks; and she was heavy with child. She looked at him with startled and weary gaze. A boy of five was peeping from behind the door, blue-eyed and brown-haired. He took after his father.
“Captain Price,” she said, surprised. “I wisnae expectin’ ye. Or anyone for tha’ ma’er.” she said in thick Scottish accent.
“I’m sorry, ma’am MacTavish, I should’ve called.”
Caged (Dragon Age)It is madness how one inevitably finds what one does not seek.Caged (Dragon Age) by Armaiti-Zarich
Sẹnaid came to Kirkwall seeking atonement, a cure for her regrets and grief; to wash away the filth of who she was; to find peace in the embrace of faith and stillness of the Chantry.
But her soul is made of fire and her passions are not of those that are calmed easily.
This search of content of hers was quickly ended when she first saw him. His spirit a radiating light, his eyes a mirror of passion hidden beneath, his smile capable of making her knees grow weak, his smooth tenor possessing the power that made her beg to Andraste herself to have a mercy upon her soul.
His image shattered every illusion of balance and quietude she has built. He was her vision of the Maker and as such she would worship him; silent in her reverence.
She was ashamed of her desires, for all the long nights she spent thinking of him, the dreams that made her cheeks flame with red. Emotions that made her magic uncontrollable; a lot of mornings
Where Lover's Dream DarklyFor it is not a fable; — that which bleeds..Where Lover's Dream Darkly by ArthurCrow
And her soul may whisper obsidian,
— But I am the sea of Darkness she craves
O’ long I hath bathed in these ravenous winds,
Watching shadows weep across river’s dreary
Upon nightscapes that plunder our souls —
A bouquet of crimson shall enchant thy lips;
Where slowly we fade into requiem
Drink me naked in the abyss of hungry wolves
Among demons and insanity, I thrust and fall
Ravaged, eons of lust spill from mine eyes,
And behold the Forests sing of murder!
In a sombre kiss, we shall undress the skies
Time will yield to the treasures of melancholy
I covet thee, unto this blood-filled Moon
O’ thou art beautiful decay upon my skin,
A ghostly visage dripping wanton & darkly ..
We are Lover’s haunting deaths lullaby;
Assassins brooding in a bewailing fairy-tale
She is mystic poison; & elixir immortale
Seek you me, in the mystique of necromancy
For I am the dream of Serpents fea
Ghosts of a Belle Dame"Those that go do not return,"Ghosts of a Belle Dame by OfOneSoul
tales tell of the woods, be wary;
no good can come of entering.
Not that anyone lives to speak.
This path was his quickest means
with dead branches and peeling bark.
Everything falling away
like a corpse shedding its skin.
He knew the cost of his road
and soon grew fearful of it.
Gusts of wind forced his step
and the copse invited him in.
There were whispers in the trees
and eyes in every shadow.
His mind was not a trickster
and the forest possessed no life.
A faint hand fumbled out,
and he felt it against his skin.
Alas, his eyes could not perceive
what he knew to be there.
"Hide not in the gloom,"
he spoke into nothing,
"- the winds and moon betray you."
He choked through ash and dread,
"And you are revealed."
An apparition of light and pain
flew from the dark in earnest.
A knight of old armor and crest
whose face was stricken with woe.
A word could not escape him
and he motioned to the Earth.
Scattered in piles around them
were the bones of visi
Theme Prompt - HungerIt's gnawing away at me,Theme Prompt - Hunger by remanth
Deep inside, so far down.
I don't even feel it,
There's no more pain now.
It claws and scratches,
This now-familiar hunger.
I don't remember a time
When it wasn't present.
It's hollowed me out now,
Skin and bones left behind.
I know no one will notice
The void hunger made me.
Being afraid to speakThe unpleasantries of past eventsBeing afraid to speak by GentlePeace
Were driven by the voices of contempt
Leaving me breathless
To that effect, I was left senseless
And when I laid under the covers
As I tried to warm myself from the cold stares
I shiver, as my skin turned white
By the solace of silence
But, as I overcame their sadness
I learned to embrace the cold
Until I was able to give warmth to others
On the Sport of Gopher-HuntingOur next-door neighbors' yard was disfigured with gray basketball-sized dirt mounds. A gopher was living in the area and seemed to take great joy in constant destruction. One day the neighbors' two kids, Chris, Marissa, and I decided that we would finally do something about the unwanted tunnel occupant. So we asked their parents if we could perform this important task. After we got the go-ahead, Marissa grabbed their hose. Once it was down one of the gopher holes, Chris turned the water on. We were going to flood the gopher's home and force him to come out. To our six-through-nine year old minds, this was the most brilliant idea ever.On the Sport of Gopher-Hunting by Darjavine
Of course, that afternoon had started out like any other afternoon. The three of us were hanging around each other's yards, playing tag or hide-n-seek. When some of the fun had died down, I had looked at Chris and Marissa's backyard. It had been torn up for as long as I could remember. "You know,
(1) This One Time at Band Camp...We were in squads trying to teach the freshman a thing or two about marching. Frankly our squad was being very dysfunctional and we were not doing anything productive. Personally I blame it on having such a big squad. Normally, in my band at least, there are only three to five or so people in a squad plus squad leaders. Originally we had like three people in our squad and three squad leaders, but we ended up combining with another one. So we ended up with this huge crazy squad. Let's put it this way. If we wanted to, we had enough instruments from each section to create our own mini-band.(1) This One Time at Band Camp... by ElizaBob
So, naturally we were all off topic because there were just too many of us. However, when we were on task it wasn't the best thing either. I think the first crazy thing with us was, we couldn't hear because our squad leaders were not being loud enough. At one point, because of this the squad was told to do a left flank, but half the squad didn't hear so all of a sudden we were split in two going into
My Opinion on CritiquesHey everyone!My Opinion on Critiques by ChocolateQuill
Some of you know me--especially if you watch me and keep up with the goings on with my profile. Some of you don't. But I can assure you that I am not a mean nor malicious person.
So why is it, when I give some people constructive critique, am I pinned as:
A: a troll
B: a 'Hater'
It's an interesting concept for me to debate and discuss. And rant about.
See, I have a rule:Avoid critiquing people on a subject I haven't studied and theorized on an extensive amount...or one I wouldn't automatically welcome to receive critique about in return.
Those who dish out critique with 0% experience is just mean, and cruel. Not that I'm saying that I'm all knowing either. ESPECIALLY in the thing that I critique most often--What do I critique, you ask?
A:Written pieces (I have a group for it, too!)
B: Character bios and character creation (especially fan characters).
It's rather hard to 'know all', though it is possible to 'know a very good amount'. We all have different ex
TechnologyTechology has simplified life ridiculously. I'm surprised at the number of people who still even bother to read the paper in the morning.Technology by AimeeRaindrop
With the internet only a click of the mouse away and hourly news updates on the television or radio, the humble newspaper hasn't really got any relevance to a progressive culture.
We live in a society of convenience; the communities that formerly produced tomorrow's powerful and intelligent leaders cease to do so as education becomes more generalised and technology plays an increasingly important part in our everyday lives in an attempt to create a broad, adaptable citizenry.
Has the industrial revolution, i.e. the introduction of machinery into the workplace to do our manual labour and to entertain us in the family home, ultimately brought about the decimation of our previously active lifestyles? I say yes.
The truth is, less than one in five british citizens now get their recommended amount of exercise, and a major contributor to these new sloth-li
the mechanisms of ocean waves When I was little, I loved sea foam.the mechanisms of ocean waves by sylveda
Running forward to the shore, I would watch waves lap up at my feet and then recede, dragging the sand under my feet back with it. Sea foam would fringe the edges of these silky waves like lace, and I would grab at it, cup it in my hands. I would remember the origins of Aphrodite (born of sea foam, risen out of the ocean as the most beautiful goddess of all), and I would cradle it, hold it close to me, as if I could absorb it into my being.
By the time I brought the sea foam up to my face, it had leaked through my fingers, dissolved. Leaning down, I would cup it again and again and again, gathering fragile lace like a fine seamstress, hoping to maybe sew it onto the edges of myself, make myself some semblance of Aphrodite. Yet it crumbled, leaked through my fingers, leaving only the trace of salt behind.
Eventually I gave up on the sea foam. One cannot keep chasing after things that just barely exist.
My father told me never to plunge int
Burns NightI should have listened to my mother when she told me never to hang out with irresponsible drinkers. I never imagined the irresponsible drinker to be me, however.Burns Night by Armaiti-Zarich
We were sitting in a cosy little tavern, eating a traditional dinner of haggis, neeps and tatties. Obligatory St. Andrew’s crosses decorated the windows, bagpipe music playing in the background. There were five of us at the table—me, Kenny, Sebby, Chiara and Matt. A Czech, two Scots, an Italian and an American. In short: a deadly combination.
Matt was the one to get drunk first. I found that odd, since we were celebrating Burns’ night, not the Independence Day or something as equally American. However, that was when the things started to get interesting.
“This will put hair on your chest.” Matt announced as he poured me yet another dram of whisky.
“I really shouldn’t…” I hesitated, but after getting a series of disgusted frowns from all around the
Not Even CloseSilence and darkness can be a thief's greatest allies, masterful use of those allies can mean the difference between life and death, success or failure. She knew how to use those allies well, it felt natural to her and today she would succeed in her mission.Not Even Close by ReinaHW
Quietly now, be sure not to draw any attention to yourself, slow, careful footsteps. Don't alert those close by or it will be a complete failure, so careful.
The target is now in sight, it was so close now, so very close, all she had to do was get a little closer, reach out and deliver the killing blow.
Just a little farther...almost there...
A hand grabs her arm and she looks up to see her mum's face scowling at her, busted.
“You've already had two fairy cakes, Karen, leave some for the rest of us. Try stealing again and you won't be getting any supper”
Complete and total failure. How had she even heard her? She was at the other end of the counter, how could she even move that fast?
Your SentinelWhat were these days to you? Were they pleasant days of song and hearth? What were these days to you? To me they were merely days and no other, sun rise and sun set with time in-between of things that mattered so little to me while they clearly mattered to you. But why they mattered to you I do not know, nor understand.Your Sentinel by ReinaHW
So what were these days to you?
You greet the days as if they are of joy and merriment, you greet the nights with a gentle fatigue that brings to you a peaceful, I would imagine, slumber while I stay awake as ever just watching, listening, waiting. Your sentinel of the morn and night.
When awake you eat and smile a lot, sometimes you cry but those times are rare. You sing at times and encourage me to join you, but I am incapable of such a thing, so I watch as you do what you do, you call it 'living life'. Unusual words for one such as I.
At times you head out to a nearby town or a village to partake in what you call socialisatio
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