#gothemark

07. Is there a catchphrase or sound that they tend to make a lot (likely without being aware of it)?

its not exactly a catchphrase but the house does tend to go on tangents of saying little beast a lot, sound wise  he can be found hissing or making a ticking like noise, you like the tongue hitting the top of the moth so he can deal with the feeling of words.  hugo usually doesn’t do either but he might hum at times, with kabir its not a gargled sound but more stuttering over his emotions if that makes sense.

25. Is there something traumatic from your character’s past that greatly affects them even to this day?

well for kabir its a bad interaction with someone older than him and hugo’s suicide , and  for hugo its the loss of his father and the distance it put in his mother. the house really doesn’t have anything around this.

39. When people look at your character, is there some assumption they might make about them just by appearance? Is that assumption correct?

this is a rather interesting question. i haven’t thought about but they might think the house is daunting in that being human he tries to take the best of everyone around him and it looks inhuman which i mean is true cause he ain’t a real human XD. with hugo it might be that he might think himself better then people in way he dresses and acts and it is partly true because he has had to grow up faster than people around him.  with kabir idk because kabir is just that everyday guy that blends in but maybe they have some offbeat assumption about his race / ethnicity like he’s gonna be forced into an arranged marriage or something.`

This is another one I wanted to do an Asylum posts deep dive for. There’s a flashback scene Seth has, getting ready for a big holiday performance, and it seems perfect for this question:

Llorinda’s fingers on the laces at his hips tickled. He wanted to bat her away, but he understood her need to make sure everything looked just so. He’d asked her to do it, out of the same fastidious need. And because she was the only female who’s eye he trusted that he actually could ask such things of.

“You’ll be fine, Meron,” she said lightly, eyes still on her work.

He wanted to scowl or give some curt reply, but the annoyance in his aura, and the anxiety underneath, were clear enough. Though he held his aura more closely than his neighbors—especially after visiting the h’somu in the mountains—skin to skin contact would tell her almost his every thought. It didn’t help that she was one of his oldest friends.

Or rather, it did help. Llorinda’s presence, her support by extension, did much to soothe his frazzled nerves. She didn’t say, “I know,” didn’t give the laces a firmer tug than necessary to drive the point home. She just quietly went about her work, sitting back on her heels occasionally to judge their evenness, and let him stew in his own dread.

It’s just a dance, he told himself. Just one stupid little dance you’ve practiced a hundred times. With his nerves this ramped up, he was just as likely to call the fire on accident as with the ceremonial dance. Either way, the central fire would be lit for the year, and his people’s prosperity would be assured.

The only real question was whether or not his dignity would survive the winter.

“Up or down?”

He started from his thoughts at Llorinda’s question, and stared stupidly down at her until she asked again.

“U-up, of course,” he said.

She nodded and began to lace the pants just under his knees. Her lack of comment prompted him to continue. “It’s traditional, isn’t it? Cuffs are worn high for any fire dances.”

Llorinda nodded again, holding one end of the cord in her teeth as she worked. Once free of the burden she answered. “I know how to dress a leh’shcarmn for a ki’ramn. I was asking you how you’d prefer to be dressed.”

He paused and mulled over her words, knowing she’d made the distinction for a reason. Was it belittling his skills, calling his footwork into question? If he wore them down, his calves wouldn’t be painted with the gold markings that would glint in the firelight, showing off the steps.

No, that wasn’t it. Llorinda would tease him about just about anything, but not things of real importance. He was truly nervous about this, and she would know it, and wouldn’t undermine his confidence.

So what was she asking? She hadn’t stopped lacing the cuff up around his knee, like he’d asked, so why even say anything? Would she be willing to take them back down if he changed his mind? He wouldn’t want to make her redo the all over again—

And it wouldn’t be like her to waste the effort, if she thought he really might. So she knew he wanted them up, but wanted him to think about why.

Was he wearing them this way, simply because of tradition? What was he trying to prove? Yes, the night was about proving their reijye was a capable areta, able to call the magic of his birthright and fit to lead them. But most of them had seen him call fire at one time or another before, albeit informally. So what was this evening really about?

How would you prefer to be dressed?

She was asking him to present his real face to the people, he realized. His friend was challenging him to be more than icon and leader to the people he lived and loved with. To stop holding himself back, to truly dance when he called the fire.

But could he do it? Could he let his people in, let them see the pain that hovered just behind his smile, darted in the shadows at the corners of his eyes, sighed out with his every laugh and joke?

“I prefer them laced down.”

“I know.”

🍇 - Though I don’t follow your work yet, I’m intrigued by what I’ve seen others reblog from you on my dash.

reni !! i thought you were already on my lists?? i’ll be sure to add you!! did you just want andromeda or the others too

also tbf i havent made jack shit for my wips oops

Happy STS! Thanks for the ask :) :)

@bebewrites 2k follower celebration → these hungry dogs by @gothemark

Leon Kiesinger was made from trees, dreaming of the forest that sprung lies from its roots. From there, he was sent to cross the no man’s land and treasured its lies beneath his lips, believing the saints would guide him. Disguised as soldier, leverage by the king, he forged his way into the heart of the devil’s kingdom, carving a path for the Nascherein into the no man's land. But there were two things that the war had kept from them; becoming a devil was one thing and stealing the forest was another. In the end, Leon cannot keep his side of his deal with the king when everything he once knew is consumed by the cannibalistic gods. But Leon forgotten he is one of them now.

ahh okay so i have so few character playlists and more just writing playlists but this one is the one i use most when writing/planning empire of souls. its very,, i dont know how to describe it. i feel like it fits very much with arwen’s personality and strengths as a dragon rider and a champion. she’s got the whole weight of her culture on her shoulders, without her and the princess they lose magic and their gods. so it kind of echoes her determination and fire to save her country no matter the personal cost.