( ohh, i see. yeah, shadowplay is… pretty f'n picky, though. XD OBS is free plus you can use it for a variety of things. not necessarily just youtube. )

( but hey, best of luck with nvidia! )

( you should try it! well, if you’re playing skyrim on pc that is. :) totally free. us youtubers use it a lot lmao )

( i think it would be the latter !! he would have to teach it, but maybe to someone he deems worthy of his respect. ●_● & that’s saying something. )

( OBS. :P )

journal entry meme // accepting♒  A  conflict  my  muse  had  while  dealing  with  their family, either resolved (and written in retrospect) or unresolved (and written in frustration of the event).

FREDAS, 3RD DAY OF EVENING STARARCHMAGE’S QUARTERS

         I often wonder why the child stays. She has talents that far exceed her age, to be sure, but Winterhold is a cold and cruel place. Its Archmage, ever colder, ever crueler. I do endeavor to soften my nature around the child, and doing so is made easier by the sweetness of her nature, but when she had asked out of simple curiosity as to who my sister was, the wickedness of my humors bade me snap at her.        I could hardly look at her, so great was my shame, and my regret, which rose in my throat along with sickening bile. And ever docile and dutiful Imsine, she only took her leave, and I have not seen her since. In my cowardice I have remained in the same place, here, seated at my desk.      How do I tell a child of why the mention of my sister puts me in my worst form?      How do I tell a child of the wretched sorrow that makes my tongue so bitter?      I cannot tell her. Not now, when the innocence of youth still rounds her pale cheeks and colors them with ruddy crimson. No child need hear of the tragedies of a monster. But I must apologize, this I recognize. She is sleeping now, Divines willing, but I must apologize. It isn’t fair that I took out the agony I feel with my sister onto her, a mere child. Especially one that looks to me for guidance. I cannot be the Witch of Winterhold when I am with her, I must be…                         Must be what?                         Who are you?     If you cannot be Witch of Winterhold, who can you be?     Omma?…

            ( this is violently scratched out,  to the point where the very parchment seems to              tear a little, and an inkblot covers the majority of the word. the script of the next              words is more  jagged,  more  disjointed  and  careless  than her previous script. )