//Im fucking sobbing // @pvremichigan
EDIT!!
///AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!! @reliving-elegy

ellievsbear
Game of Thrones Daily
AnasAbdin
h
sheepfilms

JBB: An Artblog!
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Misplaced Lens Cap
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
almost home
KIROKAZE
trying on a metaphor

blake kathryn

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
we're not kids anymore.
Cosmic Funnies
One Nice Bug Per Day
dirt enthusiast
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@reliving-elegy
//Im fucking sobbing // @pvremichigan
EDIT!!
///AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!! @reliving-elegy

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Journey to the Sun
Living so far beneath stone, most seeds dare not bud. "The light is too far", they weep. "The earth is too dry", "The night is too cold."
But one little seed wanted to see more- to live truly and feel the heaven's great warmth. They did not fear the effort, the starvation, or strain.
"What does it matter?", the little sprout posited to the dormant seeds. "What I want is up there, past the jagged rocks and crevices."
The other seeds cast their hollow judgments- bitter, grieving, wrathful, froar. But the little sprout knew they would be sore. For those who have only known helplessness, hope is a rare thing.
So, alone, the hopeful sprout grew- higher, higher, higher still. It bent, and broke, and snapped; but always did it grow again. Year over year, it slowly crept up toward the distant sky until...
It reached the very top- now taller, older, wiser than any flower could dream to be. Though it would never speak to its kin again, it was content merely to have found its goal.
As it knew the rain, water found a courteous path along its stem. As it felt the sun, its body mirrored its glory, great and radiant.
Though it would never see its kin, the thousand would be forever changed. One knew the sun, the rest would know the sun's flower.
Lucille,
I know you seek the world beyond. We shall not cling to you, little hope, for your journey is your fulfilment. One day, when we have forgotten your face, we remember your legacy- your stories, your passion, the wonder and joy.
Grow up, little sprout. See the sun so we may know your warmth as our own.
// A letter from a very important person to Lucille Goldenbrace, @cirathiel's dwarf cleric in our DnD campaign; For the Frail.
[Show her ragged and weeping in the wake of loss, ravaged by betrayal. ] [Tear out her soul for the bitter amusement.] [May she know why they fell to bane.]
[[Rip her apart.]]
disboard link expired
Resolved.
//All the Snowdown 24 muses! (I am not tagging people...theres too many X'D)
Thank you for all the asks! These were fun!
Til next year...maybe-

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The Storm Chaser - Lore
(Co-written by @reliving-elegy, with guidance from @facemeandperish)
Under read more as this is BEEFY
"WE'RE BACK, BITCHES."
"I cannot believe we're back to this."
"SO BACK, KEANE. IMAGINE HOW MUCH WE CAN ACCOMPLISH."
"I am in hell."
"Nonsense. This is far more entertaining than an eternity aflame. Open your mind!"
"I hATE. It. HATE IT. I HATE- IT."
"Quiet down and accept your fate, dimwit; we have visitors to entertain."
(Splitting Reliving Elegy's more story-centric drabbles from traditional RP. Per the norm, Keane is standard, Omen is italicized.)
//A quick recording to get back into the groove
Indefinition
Beyond the scope of reason resides another, lying in anticipation. The Lesser Son peers through their servant's sight, having known this eventuality a thousand-thousand times. But this- this was certainty, at long last. The final portent he would foretell upon his enemy The first act, seen for its true cruelty.
You see it now, stranger-brother. What you affected upon us is reflected upon you. Agony as deep as the pit that devoured us. You cannot hide from this. You cannot divide or consume it. You cannot fight this. You cannot change this. As we were afraid of what could be, so shall you fear what follows. There are no words for what you are. For what we were. Struggle. Fail. Scream. Fall silent. Let yourself be still. Then lapse. Know that moment again. Again. AGAIN. AGAIN, YOU SHALL KNOW SORROW AND FAULT.
For an eternity beyond measure of word will you know suffering. As I do. As I will. Yet, for all the pain I have met in endless unreality, I can offer no pity. I have none to spare..
I wonder what they're arguing about?
@reliving-elegy
Given that everyone was already comparing the next Dragon Age to Baldur's Gate 3, releasing 20 minutes of gameplay footage that showed a measly four choices - none of which had any effect on events - was certainly a decision that someone made.
I mean, literally, one of the "choices" was:
PC: "We came to fight Solas, not talk to him."
Varric: "Sure, I hear you. We talk anyway."
(Plot continues as preordained.)

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alt
Stumbling in from a door everyone had believed locked, a one-armed soldier, tall and broad-shouldered, wanders inside. Wholly covered by old steel plate and rusting chainmail; a warrior from an age long past. In their heavy gauntlet, they firmly grasp a stack of parchment, upon which crudely written bold letters state 'Contract of Mun Representation'.
"I am... almost certain this is the premises detailed. Probably." The soldier- their tone deep and unfamiliar- states with calculated uncertainty.
They hastily scrunch the papers away into their breastplate before rifling around within it. With a confident nod, they procure a dry, fresh, partly dirt-covered raw potato.
"Hungry?"
Beat
For all the world to change,
The tides must sway and the sun must rise.
The chill must come and the night must fall.
Fore Autumn's Wind come Summer Clouds,
Beneath them stand the bustling crowds.
People- happy, violent, loud;
Speaking boldly, living proud.
Violence follows Autumn's warn,
The biting cold brings vivid scorn.
Tense and quiet, dusk and thrill,
Even brave men fear the rigid chill.
The Winter breaks, gives rise to Spring-
A glorious, soundless, faultless thing.
It's ever-pleasant, cheer and warm-
The Calm before the Summer's Storm.
So on and on, the song will go.
The pace will quicken, the words will slow.
But never quickly, never much.
A gentle hand may feather-touch.
To feel a pulse that is still there.
For all the world to change,
But a single sound must pass.
alt!
Pale green light flickers to life beneath the cloth-covered figure. Years of caked sediment crumble away to reveal carefully hewn stone fingers; engraved runes humming gently as they are revealed.
With jarred, uncertain motions, the thing begins to move- to realize that each motion once again takes effort; that the weight of action is no longer remembered, but perceived.
-- [Startup Diagnostic In Progress.....] -- [Diagnostic Completed: No fault detected.] -- [Anamnesis Awakening...........] -- [Anamnesis did not respond. Prompt Activity? {Y/N}] -- (Y) -- [Prompting....] -- [Prompt completed!] -- [Anamnesis Awakening...... Completed!]
_Anamnesis Query: Why are we here?_ -- (I am uncertain.) _Anamnesis Consultation: Observe and assess._
//Artwork by @/auf_hocker//
The figure looks around, then stands tall, the remnants of stone falling away to reveal a construct of ancient make, brimming with power. Its single eye focuses on the figure that caused this disturbance. Moving slowly as to not frighten them, the construct crosses its left palm over the broad stone shoulderplate on its right.
"Hello. Do you speak?"
//Good thematic music for some of the stuff I'm writing
Send 🎤 + a question for a tagged character for a Voiced Response!

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