#visoren

visoren

[ do noT talk to me abt fma i have been resisting the urge to make a blog for approximately 500 years now ]

If he asks himself how he's managed to wind up in the life  he has, he might cry. And that's blatantly unacceptable for  many reasons, not the least of which is that his resolve is  held together with pins and ties at this point. 

"I --..." 

        He's meant to be articulate -- or at the very least mouthy.          But there are limits and Neal trades words for questioning          gestures and some of his most spectacularly bemused          expressions.

"-- Why?" 

[ oH WAIT HOLY SHIT i liked that because of the relaxing thing i don’T NEED A MOODBOARD ]

        The Kid's may have been neglecting his faith as of late,         but that doesn't mean he doesn't recognize a God when         he sees one. On long-formed instinct, the Kid almost          drops to his knees, but instead he holds his ground and         forces himself to speak.

It was just past second moonrise, and the wide-open sky was on fire with stars, ten thousand flickering white eyes staring down as though eager to see him get to work.                                 — Scott Lynch, The Republic of Thieves

There he was.

Even in the darkness of a city wreathed in night, Fenris could not miss his mark. It had been some time since it had been a necessity to take on mercenary work, but when he'd been approached, he'd found himself hard-pressed to turn down the brief that had been slipped into his hands. One man – no doubt a mage by the aura of magic about him – haunting the streets between the Tumblehome Inn and the Narrows. A handsome sum for his capture, an even finer fee for the delivery of his belongings also. Fenris had not been starving just yet, but the offer had still been more than enough to tempt him.

Fingers reaching for the blade on his back, he took in the sight of the man. There was no mistaking it; this was him. He had not seen any other man who could... exhale colour, as though simply by breathing the hues about him grew somehow richer and clearer, and he could not pretend that he was not curious to know more of this man. Another Tevinter experiment, like himself? Or just another power-hungry mage who had grasped for a force beyond humans should wield? Perhaps, even, something else entirely?

He swung himself over the edge of the wall, bare feet making no sound as they touched the ground. Any other man would have been more discerning about going barefoot in such a squalid, filth-covered street, but Fenris had won many a fight simply through the nimbleness that it afforded him, and he would not pass up such an advantage now.