Dec 11, 2015
Me: u know what would be good in The Order verse? Grayson died
Shiba: nigga who wound you?!
Eri: Fuck you and your feelings!
Me: :"^)))
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Me: u know what would be good in The Order verse? Grayson died
Shiba: nigga who wound you?!
Eri: Fuck you and your feelings!
Me: :"^)))
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It was a small hobby she had acquired over the years of shaking hands, of worried heart. Flowers she would weave together in an effort of making it into a ` crown ` of sorts, a small thing she have had liked doing during her spare time, a thing to distract herself when thoughts were heavy and pain rips her chest ( she still cries for what was lost ). Lady Igraine smiles, the flowers around her in full bloom, as she carefully place one of her ` works ` atop her son's head. ❛ My love. ❜
FLOWER CROWN | ACCEPTING
He’d grown accustomed to finding comfort in his mother’s quarters, her company provides relief for these aching muscles & throbbing headache (learning was truly a battle he can’t gain victory over). He shrinks back to a little boy in her company but was always a man in the field, most times he’d proudly mention a feat he has effortlessly gained in training, other times profusely complain on why books were even involved and why he only carried advanced equipment for the older knights to use and not for his own (He only had a short sword strapped to his back and a small pistol, how very disappointing).
The squire had no stories nor grievances to share today, he was tired and wanted nothing more than to unwind. His mother presented him with a crown of flowers as he sat by her, Jacob would smile ( weary yet genuine) & rest his head on her lap, careful not to make a mess out of her beautiful craft, nestle himself comfortably & shut his exhausted lids for a good nap ; his weight was never a problem for Lady Igraine Isabeau D’Argyll, she’d hum a tune while running her pallid fingers through her son’s hair, wishing he and his sister didn’t have to grow up so fast.
The young squire watched as Lady Igraine abruptly left the round table, distress was noticeable in her features & it wasn’t in his nature to care nor pry deeper into such things, Jacob much preferred a lighter mood, his cheeky remarks always did seem to brighten her up while hoping that his grandfather was far from earshot.
❝ Must I do them down for you mother? ❞ @isabeauargyll
` Galahad `, lips pressed into a thin line did she dipped her head to the side, for him to notice how her brows furrowed and her eyes plead. Hands rested lightly atop the epaulette's of his uniform, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment. ` Until when will you carry this burden on your own? `
THIS ‘burden’ was to be shared with fellow knights as it has been decreed but too much did Galahad carry on his OWN shoulders as the foolish excursion to find answers has brought nothing but aching curiosity && a shattering loyalty; in his mentor’s passing he barely stood wakeful. The blame of his death fell upon his shaking hands with thoughts overcast && unsound. Lips were pursed as composure once again gathered from HER voice that comforted the unmissable dour of his amber hues now averted from her own. Though silence lingered and only their breaths heard, her words ne’er fell on deaf ears.
❝ In time, love ❞
CREDENCE greatly overshadowed by the uncertainty of words spoken in a hush. Unease now drawing itself onto his visage as sincerity was kept from her. Grey clouds hanging o’er their heads as lovers ACHED. There was that pain of losing each other from unexplained selfishness but within brief days the distance grew and they were already falling apart.
</////3
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AND there she goes on her merry way. No man (not even her father nor Alastair) can stop her. It was that strong-willed stubbornness that was her strength so much so that he ADORED her for it. Though their oath forbids them from expressing such emotions. Galahad remained unruffled and vigilant on the field yet he does show his concern when things don't go as planned. (i.e when she starts to act on her own accord without warning)
❝ At it again,love? ❞
HE wanders when will she ever heed his advice.
Of course, not only does her child get a chance to be graced with her handmade flower crowns ( so they were called but she preferred a different term which does not deviate from the other ), but he himself too. ` Delsin, correct? Here's one for you too, love `, and she delicately placed her work pon his head, and a small smile touched her very lips as she admired her own craftmanship.
He still felt a bit nervous visiting Dante’s /other/ family but they were accepting, obviously seemed to enjoy his presence (and their relationship). Most especially Dante’s mom (who reminded him alot of Betty) .
A nicely woven blue crown now rested atop his beanie while he ate what was served to him, Delsin was unsure of what to say that he just let out a shy chuckle.
❝ It’s very nice Mrs. Igraine Uhm—- thanks? ❞
He'd probably keep it atop his head on the way home too.