#Heart of the Everlost

[player-code999]

Cyrax face without mask

(tw: blood)

I don't know if this mercenary is interesting to anyone, but here's some more information about Cyrax.

Nicknames:

Merversal, Bloody Ghost, Mercenary with Honor, Bringer of Death

Sister: a big man with a big heart, snowflake

Player!Chara: a kind bore

Cyrax speaks 3 languages: English, Norwegian and Japanese

Cyrax's favorite food: bacon and fried egg sandwiches

Very rarely, the Cyrax mask emits black smoke, which indicates the remnants of the "Dark rabble" and the work of Shirakira

When Cyrax is in a bad mood, a straining aura can form next to him

Cyrax sometimes sings softly and slowly in silence: "Breaking Benjamin - So Cold"

#playercode999 #art #digital art #undertaleau #Player!Tale AU #player tale #Everlost #Heart of the Everlost #Cyrax #Miller Cyrax Deathler #Bringer of Death

[edenloste]

if we move like lightning charging through the angry sky, and intercept on the arrow of time

we just might make it out with our heads held high, so this story continues with minds without fear.

a synesthesia piece from earlier this year; song highly relevant

#kingdom hearts #riku kh #sora kh #soriku #everloste

[chonker-chan]

Marazhai & Ulfar interactions my beloved

and also these are possible ending slides you can get depending on choices:

After burying his brothers, Ulfar Everlost looked inward upon his heart and found it broken and bleeding. Loyalty to the Allfather, the pride of a Wolf, brotherly love, and the thrill of battle — he laid it all upon the pyre, until hollow anger was all that remained in his soul. From that moment on, his path is lost in darkness. But there is an eerie legend in the Expanse that speaks of a monstrous titan rejected by death — a deliverer of curses that come to be. Numbed by sorrow, he slays both the pious and the corrupt, though more often the corrupt, as he has chosen to dwell upon the worlds of the Heathen Stars, where devotion to the Emperor is rare indeed.

It is said that the xenos Marazhai travelled to these dark sectors to hunt down and exterminate the beast more than once, but each time he limped back in a sorry state. He was proud of his experience, however, and believed that one day he would succeed

#rogue trader #warhammer 40k rogue trader #ulfar #marazhai #I just think they're neat #poor Ulfar getting bullied by his furry bros because of our silly choices

[hazzybat]

Little bit of Monster Hearts world building! i wrote this is reply to a comment on the fic and figured I'd post it here too!

Ghost food: Ghost food is a bitch because yeah I'm thinking you have to "kill" the food, as ghost food is like a memory of that food.

Ghost coffee can be made a few ways but the most common are to burn the shit out of it until there's no liquid left (but most ghosts don't love that taste of burnt coffee) or you make it regularly and then smash the cup on the ground. Most coffee places don't offer it because it's a pain to clean up.

You can buy instant ghost coffee where you just add a lot of steam (aka ghost water) and that's what Jure often ends up drinking and making at home. It's very expensive though.

(I'll be honest this is not an entirely original thought as I read a pretty good book called Everlost that had this basic thing as a concept for ghost food. They did not have ghost coffee though so those specifics are mine. And technically they weren't really ghosts i don't think.

My version of ghosts are very different to their version regardless but I did really like the idea. Good book from what I remember of it)

#i live little world building things like this i probably can't put in the actual fic anywhere #monster hearts #jo monster au #JO Monster AU worldbuilding #JO Monster AU writing/BTS

[twinknote]

book recs (sorted-ish by vibe). also i am not good at understanding what books are stressful and i’m not sure what will shatter your heart but i will try :)

books that made me feel things (but not heartbreak and pain):

Howl’s Moving Castle (and the whole series) by Diana Wynne Jones — is it a children’s book? yes. is it beautiful and wonderful and makes me so so happy? also yes. if you’ve seen the movie disregard it when reading the book. they’re similar in concept but not really the same. the movie is great but the book is great in a different way so i’d recommend it if you want something calm and magical and perfect

i am realizing that i don’t have any nice happy books

weird / lots of metaphors:

Vicious by V.E. Schwab (one of my fav authors) — this book,, is kinda fucked up. it is.. weird. the main character is in a rivalry with another guy that is so hateful on both ends that it’s actually kinda homoromantic ngl. it is a very revenge-focused book and it does get dark sometimes but overall it won’t shatter you i prommy

Good Omens by Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett — if you haven’t seen the show (doubtful, everyone has) and even if you have seen it it’s wonderful. the show is fantastic obviously but book crowley and book aziraphale will always have my heart

I really really recommend anything by Chuck Palahniuk. Fight Club is his most famous novel but it gets really fucked up so if that’s not your vibe maybe skip him. if it is your vibe i’d recommend The Invention Of Sound (really fucked up actually might shatter you i think it changed me irrevocably) or Invisible Monsters (mildly fucked up but I’m only halfway through it rn so it might get worse?)

The Raven Cycle series by Maggie Stiefvater (book one is The Raven Boys) — this series is gay and also weird. very weird. i don’t think i can explain it kind of weird. i think i read this whole series in 3 days when i got it. it has a definite vibe. i don’t know what that vibe is but it has one. also technically probably a ya series but i don’t remember

anything by Neal Shusterman — i was obsessed with his books for years i think i’ve read almost everything he’s written. a lot of his books are ya novels but they focus on a lot of serious issues in very interesting ways. one of my favorite series by him is called the Skinjacker trilogy and oh my god that sounds so sinister it’s not i prommy. first book is Everlost. it reads almost like a children’s book based on the vibes but it has some deep topics and i don’t remember if it will shatter your heart or not. would also recommend the scythe series and the unbound series but those also deal with heavier topics so keep that in mind

classics (some have a particular writing style that some people have a hard time understanding so if you do then ignore these):

read anything by Jane Austen but especially Emma it is so good

if you haven’t read the Great Gatsby do that. defiantly some gay vibes but a sad-ish end so idk. and it’s important to read. i read it every year. it’s so good

The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde — one of my favorite classics i was obsessed with this for years, kinda fucked up in the way that all classics are but it’s only sad depending on your outlook

the ones i’d recommend the most are Howl’s Moving Castle, Vicious, Good Omens, and Invisible Monsters

tbh i’m the type to look for heart-shattering, thought provoking, really weird books so i tried to recommend the less messed up ones. i was combing my bookshelf and looking through my drawers (i have so many books) but most of them make people cry so a lot of the ones i recommended were ya or on a thin line. except for Howl’s Moving Castle. it’s my #1 favorite chill book (and only chill book apparently)

but if you ever want books that will kill you on the spot i can recommend you great things

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! v much appreciate the recs!!! to be fair most of the time idek what will be stressful or shatter my heart. like the last book i read which i Loved was extremely heartbreaking. i am just a mentally ill guy so i like to read things that don't make me have a complete emotional breakdown :-) i DO love weird/metaphorical books tho. also can you believe that i have a degree in english and i've never read the great gatsby OR any jane austen??? having professors who fought against the western literary canon was truly a blessing and a curse

of Course literally all of the books you rec'd are checked out from my library jghjhgjh but i will be bookmarking this list so i can check them out in a few weeks!!!

#i'm excited to read more books y'all #ask #reading

[whatsnewalycat]

In preparing to write Psychomanteum, I read the book Notes for the Everlost: A Field Guide to Grief by Kate Inglis. I was just going through my notes folder for Psychomanteum and found all these quotes I pulled for inspiration and reread them. They’re all so good I’m gonna share some lol.

Definitely recommend reading this book, the author is fucking amazing at putting grief into words.

“You might worry your heart is full of holes and that a heart full of holes can’t function properly. Now think of all the things that do exactly what they are meant to do thanks to their holes, large or microscopic: sponges, soufflés, the foam inside life jackets. Your holes are buoyant. So are mine. Your holes make you lighter than you look.”

“It will happen again, and again, and each time we will absorb the lesson a fraction more until we learn it fully on our own deathbed: love is the only thing. There is no riddle, and there is no unfairness. All we can do is feel love and offer it without requiring it in return. That is what this is.”

“Be an unnavigable hermit as long as you need to be. Acknowledging the pain is the only way to allow it to get on with its business, to scab over. Anyone who tells you you’re doing it wrong can eat shit for breakfast.”

“Grief is neither finite nor linear, but there is another side to it. You are already a bigger, more open, more powerful person than anyone who’s currently making you feel small. Despite not being reliably even-keeled, you are more compassionate now than you were before. You know how it feels to cradle an urn in rush hour traffic. Progress is knowing it’s not your fault some people can’t bear the taste of black licorice.”

“… At the same time, destruction plus gradual subsiding. An explosion and dissolution of self—we have drawn the shortest straw—the sum effect of which, for a while, is a touch of haughtiness, to put it bluntly. With abuse or loss or sickness or assault or deception or an aversion to loving ourselves or an aversion to others loving us or your spouse goes to work and never comes home

or any crap combination of some or all of the above, we grow a taut string of gristle down the spine. With every event it grows stronger. No matter how sensible you are, there’s a period during which, against your will, you’ll perceive others to be less violated than you, like a rubber mallet on that soft bit of knee. This is the reflex of your destruction. You are completely, utterly clueless. The “you” is them, her, him—an “other.” It is true. That apparently less violated person is completely, utterly clueless. She looks at you and might think the exact same thing for a reason you can’t discern. You are both correct. Someday, you’ll see it, and it will soften you. This is your subsiding.”

“Breaking down is breaking open. If someone else relates, their emotion vents and so does mine. We integrate suffering by sharing it.”

“People like us know the feeling of that rope in our grip. We are distinguished by the shocking intimacy of this shared experience. Context is everything. Our words are never corrective or punitive. We are you and you are us. When we sit with you, we time travel. We join you. We don’t lecture you. We were there too. We are, perhaps, a ways further from our loss than you are from yours. That’s why we can say, sort of, with a sigh for the exasperating riddle of it: Grief isn’t linear. Except for when it is. And it always is. But only from a long way up.”

“When we turn a kaleidoscope, we rearrange the same essential elements of color and light. That satisfying little click-click-clack of shapes moving into place forms something familiar but totally different. You and I look at each other through kaleidoscope windows, seeing faint glimmers of the recognizable with each twist and turn. This is our phantasmagoria. Sound it out. Fantasy plus gore. From this angle, we see yours. From another, mine. As we congregate, look how different we are. Look how much the same.”

“We are lusty and outrageous creatures. Our lust and our outrage is the furnace of our aliveness. Complain, dammit. Incorporate this new heat. Your baby died. Complain, darling, and weep and sob or talk about it to everyone or only yourself. Whatever is best for you. But complain. Complain until the heat of it brings you into your color. Gray and untouched is a half-life. The next time your peanut gallery winds up, say it out loud: Gray is the only true nothingness. Then walk away. Or imagine walking away.”

“After the death of someone we love, we counter a get-over-it world with storytelling, remembrance, and good, clean, complicated healing. It’s radical to say anything other than Fine when someone asks you how you’re doing. So be radical. And when you feel like it, seek out cheer and try on presentability. Buy books with daisies on the cover. It’s good practice. But make space, too, if you feel like it, for profane rage—the kind of overwhelming bitterness that’s sacrilegious to anyone who passive-aggressively gives you a book about the power of positivity. Profane rage is irreverent, too. Don’t resist or fear it. It won’t stick to you like ticks or lice or a bad stink. Its origins are worth talking about. You’ll be more compassionate, alive, and healthy for having given it a voice. You’ll grow a deeper appreciation and sensitivity to things suddenly feeling okay. You’ll get there faster, and laugh louder when you do. Ask any punk.”

“Loss makes compassion by connecting us to the human experience. With pain, with almost unbearable hurt. But nonetheless, we are connected. We are awake. First, we harden up—so bitter, so upset—but then we soften, softer, softer, and softer still until we truly understand why we are here. To share love. To share understanding. None of us have the time for anything less.”

“Loss defines you as much as everything else. Sickness, love, career, marriage. Things coming apart and things coming together. Every relationship, pothole, and happy coincidence. Right now, loss has overwhelmed everything else. Someday you’ll remember, and you’ll wait for your eyes to get hot and glassy. But they won’t. Loss will be a big thing, but still, just one thing. The first time it feels this way, you might feel strange. But at some point, we all have to give permission for our baby to be lost. Disbelief gives way to giving way. Your child is not with you. And you’ll say Alright, baby. This is the great and fearsome letting go. This is you, as a parent, saying Be good, wear your mittens, and don’t forget to bring a snack. This is Bye-bye, sweetheart.”

Fucking hell I read the last one like five times in a row while crying.

#tw infant loss mention #Kate inglis #notes for the Everlost: a field guide to grief #grief #psychomanteum inspo

[gafagaire]

Everlost ( accepting ! )

@ikkaku-of-heart​ said:

“No person in the world ever lost anything by being nice to me."

      Piercing irises stared at the other, a smile spread over a joyous face while an almost high pitched yet saddened laugh peered out from painted lips. Hands her tight around the long handles of the scythes as brilliantly coloured silk almost glistened against the light from the sky’s ball of fire and plasma.

      “ fa ffa ffa ffaaa~...Lossst? Oh but soommee have already LOST everything! Faa ffa ffa! ”

#ic ;; To make the merry-go-round go faster #ikakku-of-heart #meme ;; everlost #uvu/

[elsewhereuniversity]

The Fingers in the Fog, and other campus stories.

Sometimes what is lost chooses to not be found.  Daisy was one of the ever-lost.  Walking into the woods one day, holding a year book from high school, a necklace with her true name, and all her most precious things.  If you ever get lost in the fog, on a cold campus evening, sing Daisy Daisy.  Her finger tips will brush your hands and guide you so long as you keep up the melody. 

Something likes peaches.  No one has seen it, but it seems to really like peaches. Leave a sliced peach, with the removed stone, on your window sill. One week later, you will have the pit returned to you with the most beautiful charms carved into the surface. Protection seems to be the theme, but others have reported good luck, clarity of mind, and an easing of madness.

Whisper lives in the attic of the music building.  With his silver skin, and many (many… MANY) mouths covering every inch of his body, he is, despite his name, quite loud.  His interests include, bum notes, split reeds, broken strings and split skins.  (specifically, music involving as many of them as possible).  Whisper finds mortal music far too dull and predictable, instead opting to enjoy the chaos.

Knowledge of the Wyrm is innate in those who live within the boundaries of Elsewhere.  Be it through dreams, deja vu, or unexplainable dread, all get an idea of the doom that lies beneath, be them human or animal.  This has lead to some rather arrogant, but a little dyslexic, earthworms, taking over the biology supply cupboard with the help of some unknown benefactor.  They wield magics we have not seen before and have notions of grandeur far above (or below) their station.  The spells are ancient and dark but, like their casters, mercifully tiny.  Take the appropriate precautions. 

Every year, a girl is chosen, to break up with Jasper of the Summer court, on the evening of the Summer Equinox.  He visited as a changeling in the summer of 1952, where a mortal dated, danced and dumped him all in one night.  The exquisite nature of the love and pain he thought he felt has left him chasing the experience every year, ever since.  The girl in question is always unharmed, apart from a little embarrassment, and receives compensation in the form of a blessing.  Their summers will forever be filled with romance, and their winters will be warmed by a love for the ages.

x

#thehairygodfather #stories #the fingers in the fog #campus stories #you bring such good details #the everlost #daisy #peach pits #whisper #the wyrm #i love the earthworms and support them with all my heart #and jasper #oh my god jasper move ON #i love this #submission

[arielarriaga]

Recent lucidities and surrealities, blending of joys and nostalgia. I don't know yet the point of remembrance but I cannot shy away anymore. It is a blessing, it is a joy, it is a dream.

Dreaming that life is joy, waking to serve, and realizing that service is joy.

I'm leaving somewhere, and I don't yet know where, but I'll go where the winds of life beckon, and I shed away inhibitions.

I want to serve, I want to use my hands, I want to use my mind, all in alignment with my heart. Infinite spirit, take me as I am, lead me onwards, inwards. Everfound, everlost, everfound.

#i am here #here i am

[jomiddlemarch]

The Body in the Vestry

The body had been found in the vestry, which smelt quite strongly of mothballs and silver polish, of autumn leaves trodden underfoot, even in the height of summer. The constable had been called in and had made a great deal of noise and left an even greater deal of mess, which fell to Mrs. Greenacres and her daughters, though Alice scuttled off quick as she could; she’d come on her bicycle and Emma should have suspected her sister’s plan because Alice had made no secret of her belief that riding a bicycle was unflattering and that she’d rather be caught dead than have Lord Fairfax’s curly-haired son Tom come across her peddling madly. Emma had helped with what poor grace she could muster, wishing she might have claimed a sick headache, a letter she must write to her friend Lady Daphne Everlost, a most helpful friend she’d invented during the years she’d been sent to what she was expected to refer to as dear old Roedean. Instead, she’d scrubbed the floor and ruined her nails and wished, with all her heart, that there was somewhere else she could go—a trip on the Orient Express, a sojourn to Egypt’s mysterious deserts, a nightclub in London, all flash and sparkle and gin. Her mother had left her behind to finish up putting the place to rights, as if Emma paid much attention to wear the vestments were hung. At least she’d get to walk home alone, however she chose. If that meant she walked by the curate’s cottage, who could fault her?

Mr. Hopkins was to be found in one of two places: the chapel or his garden. As Emma had come from the vestry, she was confident of finding him with a pair of secateurs in his hands, diligent among his peonies. She was not disappointed, not in the least. There he was, young Hopkins as Lord Fairfax called him, though he was thirty if he was a day, according to her sister Alice. There he was, Mr. Hopkins who only gave the sermon when Rev. Summers was indisposed, which was more often than one might have anticipated, given how weak the tavern’s ale was. He’d taken off his suit jacket, an indeterminate shade that conveyed the solemnity of his position as well as his meager stipend, and had hung it jauntily on the stake of a trellis covering with climbing roses and was hard at work—in his shirtsleeves. Almost, for he’d rolled up the white sleeves to his elbows and his forearms were bare. Emma caught her breath, feeling as though she’d seen what she oughtn’t, but what she had most, terribly, desired.

“Oh my heavens!” he exclaimed when she took a step back, stupidly thinking to escape his notice with her dark hair bundled away beneath a scarlet scarf Alice had discarded as too gaudy. “Good day to you, Miss Greenacres!” he called out.

“Hallo, Mr. Hopkins,” she answered because she must or be thought rude and ill-bred, knowing her cheeks were flushing as red as the silk scarf tied round her head..

“I say, Miss Greenacres, would you care for a cup of tea? I can’t seem to convince Mrs. Brannan to lay a smaller tea for one simple curate. She’s sure to have prepared a fresh pot, crumpets, lemon curd and two different kind of tea-bread,” he said. “You’d be doing me the greatest favor, for I think I shall do something simply unforgivable—”

“What?” Emma cried out, thinking of the dead man’s staring eyes, the awful crookedness of his broken neck on the vestry’s flagstones, of Alice’s sharp, startled scream when she’d come upon him.

“I should start to curse these benighted peonies-- and what should the people of Mercyhaven say then, if they hear their curate has such wickedness in him?” he said. “Do say you’ll stop and have a cup of tea.”

One cup, she thought. That wouldn’t mean very much and soon enough, no one would be speaking of anything but the dead man in the vestry and no one would mind that Miss Emma Jessamine Greenacres had spent a quarter of an hour with the curate in his snug parlor with the scent of roses and peonies coming through the open window.

“Only a cup,” she said as he walked over to the garden gate to unlatch it with one hand, his blue eyes bright. “Then I must fly—Mother expects me at home.”

#mercy street pbs #mercy street advent #agatha christie #crossover #au #emmry #emma green #henry hopkins #a curate in the garden #a body in the vesty #matron brannan #henry with rolled up sleeves #the importance of being earnest easter egg #emma has her own bunbury

[semper-legens]

57. Everlost, by Neal Shusterman

Owned: Yes Page count: 377 My summary: Allie and Nick died in a car crash, but on their way to the light, they fell into Everlost. Trapped between the living and the dead, they find that they aren’t ready to rest in peace. They want to live - but Everlost is a dangerous place, and there are monsters stalking the land. Will they find their peace, or fight for a new Everlost, no matter what it might cost them? My rating: 4/5

Everlost! I’ve read quite a bit of Neal Shusterman’s YA novels, but this is the one that I really remember from when I was a kid. The premise is simple - after death, kids who didn’t manage to travel to the light end up in Everlost, a shadow world superimposed over the real one where their souls, called afterlights, can live. They’re ghosts, but also really not ghosts at all. I loved this when I was a kid, I love it now, so let’s get into it!

Allie is one of our two main protagonists, and she’s great. She’s a typical headstrong anti-authoritarian YA protagonist, but never to the point of being annoying or anything. She likes to be in control, she likes to know what’s going on, two traits that serve her very well over the course of the book. Her headstrong nature make her a good character to follow, especially as she uses her cunning to get out of sticky situations and help her friends.

Nick is a lot more passive - he’s going along for the ride, instantly smitten with Mary (more on her later) and willing to give in to what most afterlights seem to do, getting stuck in a rut doing the same things over and over again. He’s also the more traditionally moral; while Allie can be a bit underhanded, Nick has a heart of gold and just wants what’s best for people. But he’s still smart and capable! I feel like a lot of his character in this one is setting up how he will develop later, which is nice to see in one sense because it means that Shusterman had an end goal in mind when he started writing. That’s always good in my eyes.

Mary is the leader of a group of New York afterlights who really wants everyone to follow her authority implicitly, and get caught in the rut of their perfect day. She’s a good villain, sneaky and self-serving while caught up enough in her self-righteousness that she doesn’t realise how wrong she’s being - or maybe she does, and doesn’t care. Nick balances her well, and the moments they get together are touching even before Mary’s true intentions come out. There’s also a bit of bait and switch going on - it does seem for the longest time like Mary’s eventually gonna go over to Team Good Guy, but things are a little more complicated than that.

I have to give Shusterman props for the inventiveness of his worlds. Though I don’t think everything he’s throwing out there lands, the sheer creativity he builds into his worlds is truly astonishing. I love the little details, like the afterlights taking nine months to awaken as ghosts, mimicking pregnancy, or the afterlights sinking to the centre of the earth if they stay still. The latter isn’t explained in any detail, but manages to work because nobody knows how this stuff works, they’re just trying to get by in this world. There’s also some cool concepts mentioned here that will be further developed later, like skinjacking and ecto-ripping.

The overall theme of the novel is letting go versus clinging onto life - Mary wants everything to stay in their peaceful, perfect Everlost day, while Nick and Allie want to go home and see their families, and in Nick’s case eventually come to find a way to move on, though he doesn’t take it for himself yet. It’s a theme that will become prevalent in the series, and it’s interesting to see how letting go is portrayed as being legitimately difficult, but overall the right and healthier thing to do.

That’s all here - next up, the sequel!

#Everlost #Neal Shusterman #bookblr #book blogger #book blogging #4

[player-code999]

Warning: the mention of violence! This character and story have nothing to do with reality, the author does not support violence.

Miller Cyrax Deathler, "Bringer of Death" (Merversal) - Humanoid Celestial who has moved from his native dimension "The Heart of the Everlost" to Player!Tale. One of the main mercenaries of this universe and balanceverse.

Cyrax is an original character created specifically by me. The story is being worked out, but I will present an unfinished fragment from it:

He was born in the Everlost, a place located between the paths for moving through the multiverse. Everlost (Everlost) contains a network of planets of the same size, and these planets are inhabited so far by a single race - the Celestials. I will omit the details about the race and the planets, since there is no complete information, and I will go straight to Cyrax (Merversal).

He was born into the poorest family, but very honest and friendly, despite his position. The child grew up among his surroundings and observed corruption, murder, theft, i.e. all the rot and vices living in his world. The only thing that helped his family, was that his world government gave him the opportunity to study at a military school, since the state needed cannon fodder. The boy surpassed everyone in terms of parameters, knowledge and skills, even the "energy hunger" could not break him (spoilers). The state saw him as an ideal mercenary and offered him a job for a huge amount of money. At that time, he was about 14 years old. He agreed to provide for his family. For about 3 years he was professionally engaged in mercenary work, about 91% of his missions were successful, but the state decided to harden Cyrax and one night they ordered him for their own family. He, without knowing about it, destroyed his family. After he realized what he had done, his heart became embittered at the world, his soul longed for revenge. He, filled with anger, completely destroyed the entire government in his world. He swore to himself to kill only maniacs, corrupt officials, murderers, terrorists. (Anti-hero so to speak). It turned out that he still had his very little sister alive, who was still a baby. She went to the hospital, and from there he stole her. Then, in the development of the government, he found a way to travel between universes and thereby got out of his world.

Next, I will give a couple more facts that I am still introducing into history. When trying to destroy the government for the first time, Cyrax damaged one of the "great sealed prisons", thereby unknowingly absorbing the cosmic demon Shirakira. Although Cyrax was physically better prepared than the army of his world, he was inferior to her in technology. He was neutralized and imprisoned in the most secure prison on his planet. He was tortured for a long time and cruelly: his ribs were broken, his hands were burned, and the result of these tortures was a blinded left eye and a torn jaw. During the last tortures, the demon inside Cyrax awoke, the mercenary accepted his conditions and breaking the shackles, brutally dealt with all the guards.

Personality (small facts):

Cyrax is quite serious, cruel and cold, killing does not shake his soul if the mission requires it. Usually he is silent and calm, you will have to try very hard to get him out of himself. However, with good people, he can talk in a friendly tone, although not for long. The mercenary prefers the night and rainy weather, in it he feels free, as if forgetting about everything in the world. He is also a great strategist and has top-level physical fitness.

Reference's and arts:

Art's by @player-code999(me).

Art by @yuiwero

Art by Fwuit_uwu

His Theme:

I hope you enjoy the character, its design and a brief history. It was very addictive to draw him! Comments and reblogs are always open ^^

#Heart of the Everlost #playercode999 #art #digital art #player tale #undertaleau #original character #Cyrax #Merversal #Bringer of Death #Miller Cyrax Deathler #Youtube

[edenloste]

heartstrung young and dumb, yeah, we had no fear way back when we said we’d both be millionaires

#kingdom hearts #sora kh #everloste #if you saw me post this a while back and delete it yes you did and im sorry #i didnt mean to post it and i forgot tumblrs a bit more advanced than twitter so i just deleted it #oopsie!

[theleafthatfelloff]

I have been a fan of sunsets for a really long time now, but the one that I would never want to lose out on, is the sky after the sunset. The sun lingers there for one moment more and then it goes away, beyond where the eyes can see, leaving one, gazing into the horizon, seeking more of the alluring scene.

What strikes the match to my heart is the twilight !!! To me, it is really not about the love and dynamics of the sun and the earth or for that matter the sea. Beaches are indeed places of recreation, but they are also places of redeeming the everlost soul.

The setting sun bleeds me, opens up all my wounds and all the thoughts come gushing out of my mind into the space I stared at. I neither looked at the sky, nor at the horizon seperating it from the sea. I just stared, blankly, into space. All my thoughts blatantly refused to line up; on the contrary they rushed out like children coming out of a school. The twilight dims and slowly leaves one into darkness, like a fading away end of a movie.

The waves sung the ballad of their seperation from the sun and now retired to shine in the moonlight, but their sound makes my heart race; race even faster than the horses of thoughts that came out of my mind. I want to be at peace and yet I am deprived of it, making me realise how much more I have yet to give. All the smiles, all the laughter, all the wails echoed from the memories that tussled with my thoughts, made me break down little by little, mostly the shields I wore, to save myself from people.

The little ember of my clogged up thoughts, my hidden feelings, longed to be brought out and rekindled with love and care, not to generate a forest fire, but to start a small bonfire, giving enough warmth for pure souls to rest and lie beside. The sky lights up in a strange orangish-pink glow, like someone melted metal at a higher temperature and let it flow through the sky into my heart, only to char it forever.

I get up slowly, it felt like 2 of me appeared; one, sitting cross-legged still staring into goodness knows what, feeling the gust of the wind, with tearful eyes and another, who slowly got up because apparantly time doesn’t permit me to stay outdoors alone, but in denial that I will be living for a longer time than now.

I walked up the stairs, whose underlights now shone bright, for the moonlight wasn’t enough to guide one up them, into the city, uphill again. Moving towards my resort, I approached a less walked pathway, with thickly woven trees, looking like they were aflame and they bled along with me. The light lit my face and my heart settled, settled for what I thought was life, and my legs walked; walked on the path that destiny had in store for me, alone.

Twilight puts up a smile on many faces, but it also quietens people like me, whose mindless thoughts run astray and create chaos in their and others lives too. But, even better, they give them the recharge of happiness and peace that they can spread to those near... and those... far (dear).

#sunset twilight happiness dream peace boketto

[bookcub]

Could I request book reqs for Penelope? Please and thank you!

So um,, if you guys send these to me from your blogs, I do look at your interests and fandoms and use that for inspiration. I can’t always match everything (because x and y and z have no titles) but I do put try to put books that I think you might like. On anon, it’s much more random. Anyways, this is a long way of my saying that Little White Lies was more like Leverage than I expected. 

Perfect Cover by Jennifer Lynn Barnes 

Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir 

Not Your Sidekick by CB Lee

Everlost by Neal Shusterman 

Little White Lies by Jennifer Lynn Barnes 

Of Fire and Stars by Audrey Coulhurst 

Pegasus by Robin McKinley 

Every Heart a Doorway by Seann McGuire

Send me your name!!! 

#lookintothemirrorandsee

[cheshirelibrary]

Reading Pathways: Where to Start With Neal Shusterman

[via Book Riot]

Neal Shusterman has written more than thirty novels and short story collections. He is best known for his YA books, but also writes screenplays and books for adults and younger children. He’s a New York Times Bestselling Author, a National Book Award winner, and a Printz Honor Book recipient.

His books are filled with intricately thought out fantastical elements, an ever-present but understated diversity, and a talent for handling multi-perspective narratives that rivals George R.R. Martin. With so many stories to choose from, you can’t go wrong. But here are some ideas on where to begin:

Unwind. The Unwind Dystology is probably Shusterman’s most popular series and with good reason. The first book imagines a future where a Second World War has been fought over reproductive rights. A solution reached: to get rid of abortion but allow parents to “unwind” their children at any point from the age of thirteen to seventeen. Reading it will make you think, make you cry, and make you reconsider the meaning of compromise. 

Challenger Deep.  After the emotional journey of Unwind, you are ready for Challenger Deep, though some may find it even more emotionally chilling. It weaves together metaphor, fantasy, and reality to portray mental illness in a story inspired by the experiences of Shusterman’s son, who also serves as the book’s illustrator. Oh, and it won the National Book Award in 2015.

Everlost. If you need a break from all those feels, try this book, the first in Shusterman’s Skinjacker trilogy. After Allie and Nick don’t survive the car crash, their souls end up in the in-between world of Everlost. The concepts in this book are deep and not exactly light-hearted, but the detail and quirky sense of humor make this book enchanting. 

Scythe. If you aren’t ready to laugh or are nervous about undertaking another already-completed series, then pick up Scythe. This is the first—and so far only—book in Shusterman’s Arc of a Scythe series. A Printz Award honor book last year, it portrays a future where technology and human innovation have defeated illness, war, and death. To keep population size under control, scythes are the only people allowed to kill. Two teens in the story are apprentice scythes, but only one can go forth...

#cheshire library #neal shusterman #neal shusterman books #book list #ya book list