#nyiskarp

Nyiska: ==> Decide to make a run for it. Your name is Nyiska, and you’re doubting your faith. Maybe not in it’s entirity anymore, as your moirail helped with that, but your church, you’re still unsure of. That is why, you’ve decided to pack your stuff up and leave your given hive for a bit. You needed a break, and to leave the church behind for a bit and pray on the matter, somewhere where you can’t be assigned or pressured to make a rash decision before you get the chance to think it through.

You fled in the late night, giving yourself just a few hours to get somewhere to stay, but making sure the majority of your body is covered, just in case. With a bag on your back, and a small map, you left the church grounds and made your way towards the nearest town. Your name is Nyiska, and though you love your religion, you’re free from it. You can make your own decisions and follow the Messiahs word just fine, even away from home.  As it starts getting towards sunrise, you scramble to find an inn, and when you do, you already look a bit disheveled, you don’t pull down your collar or take down your hood. The less of your unpainted face these strangers see, the better. You drop your bags at the counter.

@tempi-fantrolls

Nyiska was in a struggle of faith, though she'd never admit it. Being a massacretin, especially a voluntary one, wasn't as easy as it had been before. It was as if she were always in some sort of trouble these nights, and it felt as if it were never going to end.

This is why she needed to see Viesci again, and also why she was making the trek to his hive, fully dressed at this pre-dawning hour, so late into the night, sliding her feet on the church grounds and keeping her gaze low until she reached his hive, to bother knocking.

Your name is Nyiska and it’s been a few nights, and the thought of the meeting kept ringing through your mind alongside that hate-filled set of two kisses you were almost embarrassed to admit you shared. At least, now knowing that was what it was. It wasn’t just some kiss. It was black. And you’re not supposed to kiss so early on in something like that! Still your lips tingled at the thought, and your notebook sat by your husktop still open to the page he wrote his handle on. You tried to bite your lip to numb it, you tried to avoid the thought, you stalled hoping this dumb crush would go away, and then lastly finally giving in, you waited so you didn’t look desperate. Now you gave in again, and messaged him.

@mushitrolls

-- nueroticAmourologist [NA] began trolling aphonicTally [AT] at 18:04 --

@astrononomy​

Your name is Nyiska Jacayl, and you had a carnival today, and for the first time since seeing a tealblood executed for using the wrong pole setting up a carnival tent: you were petrified. Many indigos surrounded the area, some familiar, some new, but one face stuck out to you in particular...and it was not a friendly one. She was a dancer, one you once made a costume for that she wasn’t pleased with. She had every threat in the book against you when your refused to show your face to her that night. Somehow, you escaped punishment...but you doubt you’d be that lucky again.

You stayed still as you could and lowered your head, barely even breathed, and just hoped the Messiahs would let you have one more freebie for your past sins and mistakes.  “Hey! That’s the girl! The fuckblood with the scarf!!” You heard her voice say, and it that moment your luck had run out. 

“Fatherblood, I’ve cleaned your brushes as requested!” Nyiska said in a respectful tone as she approached the other, her face covered between the required mask and the collar of her turtle neck pulled over her nose and mouth. “As well as prepared your costume for tonight. Are both up to your mirthful desires for your act tonight?” The massacretin finished, offering both over.