♞ [S-t-r-e-n-g-t-h]

send me ☞ + a character to see how i would portray them.

None of it could be shaken off. Damned if he hadn’t tried to sleep it off, but that only resulted in more nightmares. There was a certain ache to rip apart his skin and see what lied inside, but there was enough common sense to relieve him of such twisted ideals. Whatever scraps of a prior & falsified identity that remained had simply dissipated from a hazed cognition—leaving him blank. But still that feeling persisted. Still that sensation of his nerves growing limbs and crawling their way out of his flesh lingered. He had half a mind, no pun intended, to believe that it was the phantom of a fake lifetime. Whether it was himself or someone else (hair like a raven, eyes like his, and a smile that blinded all—to beget his hatred was a true sin indeed), he yearned for it leave him be.

There was enough problems as it was without his own body giving up on him, never-mind his mind. Most of him had come to accept the summation that his head required some measure of examining, but the remainder of fractured reasoning told him that he was, for the most part, fine. Here lied a man that had survived enough skirmishes with certain death to be called a paradox. Here stood a warrior that had endured enough disasters, some wrought unto himself, to be called titanium. However lost he was, he would continue to live for the sake of those who trudged through bile & blood for a mess like him. Comrades did not—could not suffice for what they were to him.

He would endure for his family.

send me ☞ + a character to see how i would portray them.

There it was.

That reminiscent sensation that invigorated him so. Courage was often a label reserved for the ancient heroes or the brave knights of old, and he found himself being more reckless than acting on any substantial bravery. Such was entirely fine with him, quite aware of the possibility that this land carried no heroes. None worth admiring, least of all noticing. Ah—had he referred to this place as something else besides his treasure trove? In a world full of abundant riches & pleasures, such as the ones falling out of his pockets, he would sooner call this plane of existence his playground rather than an actual earth.

Yes—that sensation.

The feeling of playing the liar; the crook that hid behind an act, disguising himself with a blinding grin and enough tips from whispering shadows to conjure a believable ruse. 

After all, wasn’t that what a thief was supposed to do?

"Now look here guys… these odds are just ludicrous.” Drawled in what could possibly be the most cocksure tone that anyone ever did hear, each syllable dripping with the usual mockery when faced with a seemingly imperative situation. In retrospect, it wasn’t the best idea to think that he could loot three troves worth of gems & Gil and scamper away without so much as an alarm being raised. Especially seeing as how the gates in front of him were being lowered as current exchange took place.

"Don’t you fellas have any respect for honor an’ all that good stuff—!? Y’know, letting one knight take a whack at me and shame me for all eternity? I’ll tell you what—” Arrogance transcended into sheer vainglory upon the nigh of prior admission, right half of fuchsia curved blade twirled effortlessly with a gloved index finger. “—I’ll beat all five of you with just one blade… AND I’ll hop over that gate by the time reinforcements arrive. But if you win?”

[Fat chance of that.]

themerryarchitect liked your photo