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"That depends on your opinion of animals. We could do with less rats and hagfish, and more hounds and whales. At least the latter two are useful."
"His name is Victor, but I didn't name him. Houndmaster Warton did when he was still a whelp."
@apcryphl
"Then you'll have to find another one to play with. Keep your hands off of mine," he said as the hound circled back to sit by the Overseer's feet.
"Tch... Fine.... You know how lucky you are to have so many animals around here? Where I'm from there's none. I mean.... fine I could live without all your rats. But other than that..."
"So did you name him?"
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"Then you'll have to find another one to play with. Keep your hands off of mine," he said as the hound circled back to sit by the Overseer's feet.
apcryphl:
“He’s working. And he’s not a pet.”
Said hound was already sniffing at the stranger for any trace of bonecharms or other heretical artifacts. The inhuman scent alone had the dog’s hackles up.
“But he’s right there!”
So close but so far from huggability. To say he was disappointed was an understatement.
“And I’m right here.”
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Fox snickers and disappears from view, only to reappear startling close to Marcus.
“They said nothing about using heretical books as weapons though.”
He snickers again and tries to snatch the book back.
“I’m trying to knock some sense into you. Get it?” He smirks.
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@vehxmence || cont from X
The dark eyes of the snarling mask regarded the stranger warily. Marcus hadn't brought anyone else into this because he couldn't trust anyone else... no one from within the Isles. But this man? By the Void, his very existence probably went against all seven Strictures. He wouldn't be working with the Abbey, no matter how much the Overseer's paranoia gnawed at his mind like a starving rat.
"That depends. What sort of help would be offered? The Abbey's influence is felt all over the Isles, from Tyvia to Serkonos. Destroying it would require more than the elimination of one man or compound," he paused, lips pursing behind his mask. "And there's the Oracular Order to contend with. The Sisters may sense a coming storm that threatens to undo the Abbey of the Everyman, even if they don't know what form that storm might take."
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COLOR DIAGNOSIS
Marcus' color attributes are red. The second attribute is something like achromatic color. Marcus' words contain many red color images. The main image of Marcus is created from a combination of tones with red as the base color.
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Bringing this (absolutely ancient art) back because it's still hilarious.
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bold what applies to your muse.
social status: upper class / middle class / working class / poor
favorite time: day / night
favorite place: indoors / outdoors
food: meat / poultry / fruit / vegetables / snacks / sweets / grains / nuts / seeds / dairy / seafood / eggs
drink: tea / coffee / water / juice / alcohol / milk / soda
transport: on foot / automobile / wagon / aircraft / boat / carriage / animal / spacecraft / taxi / skateboard / bus / subway / bike / sleigh
clothing: t-shirt / blouse / henley / smock / polo / turtleneck / flannel / gown / sleeveless / kimono / tunic / waistcoat / tank top / tube top / vest / jersey / karategi / tuxedo / dress / western / jeans / trousers / shorts / bell bottoms / overalls / breeches / skirts / cargo pants / tutu / sweatpants / leggings / coveralls / shorts / capris / tights / pinstripes
extras: coat / duster / hoodie / trench coat / robe / cloak / blazer / shawl / windbreaker / topcoat / sweater / puffy jacket / cardigan / denim jacket / poncho / apron / cape / overcoat / quilted vest / parka / bomber jacket / raincoat / tailcoat / varsity jacket
footwear: none / socks / stockings / combat boots / shoes / platforms / sneakers / pumps / sandals / moccasins / flip-flops / stilettos / ballet shoes / galoshes / high-tops / boots / c*nverse / cleats
headwear: none / beanie / straw hat / fedora / headscarf / snapback / beret / bandana / knit cap / top hat / ushanka / bonnet / sombrero / cowboy hat / veil / bowler hat / headband / toupée / wig / tiara / ribboned hats / crown / mask
weapons: hands / teeth / firearms / spear / knife / baseball bat / pepper spray / dagger / stun gun / bayonet / sword / staff / brass knuckles / hammer / makeshift & improvised / chain / stones / grenades / molotov cocktails / club / bow & arrow / crossbow / scythe / chainsaw / superpowers / magic / poison / baton / machete / axe
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Fair enough. He’d expected some stammered half-lie, maybe a blank stare. Azriel valued actions over words, as any sensible creature ought to, and especially when said actions were for the purpose of shrugging off the yoke of unworthy rule. Better when it was done the bloody way, but he supposed one man probably was better off taking a subtler route.
“Artful,” he muses approvingly. A singular rat darts across the empty street, and those too-bright eyes of his follow it briefly. Alone, wary, afraid. It should be careful, lest it run afoul of the wrong heel.
“And if you had help? Would your approach change? Would you grow bolder?”
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i’m kind of annoyed at the communities belief that dropping threads or liking a starter call and not responded is a terrible thing. like that belief of “oh they didn’t reply to that one starter i wrote one time they’ll never reply to anything why should i even bother”
i don’t support that at all.
so basically, if you don’t mind that your partner may drop threads or not reply/maybe forget to reply to a starter, please reblog this? its so unhealthy for someone like myself who gets afraid to drop threads on the chance that my partners may think i don’t want to write with them, or worse BECAUSE i dropped it they won’t want to write with me.
its a bad cycle to end up hoarding drafts because you’re afraid they’ll be mad at you for dropping it. so if you don’t mind at all and will still continue to want to write with them, reblog this and let your followers know that you are okay with them dropping threads, and you won’t hold it against them.
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"Working behind the scenes. Freeing those who I can, those who can... learn to be more careful. There are many who are scared into treading carefully just because they were brought in by the Overseers."
Children, for instance.
"But if you are referring to... what? Trying to destroy the order from inside? That is reckless, and I won't have my work so far torn apart because of impatience. I have information on a few of my Brothers that they are keen to keep quiet... but their secrets could die with me if I don't watch where I tread."
apcryphl:
Marcus shifted his weight uneasily, the movement coaxing no sound from his boots. That was the boon one of the bonecharms granted him, to be able to move as silent as a shadow when he had to. It seemed it was that very charm that had drawn the other to him. He let out a breath once the stranger’s gaze lifted away from him.
“It’s not louder. But when the Overseers force those in their charge to break Strictures just because they seek a confession?… holding on to those Strictures so strongly will fix nothing.”
The khazvalkki’s sharp hearing was attuned well to the noises of clothing and weapons, and as such did not miss when a sound he should have heard did not come. Perhaps he had simply been consumed by the draw of the artifacts the Overseer carried, though, and he did not point it out. Not yet.
“Fascinating.” The observation came after an almost uncomfortably long silence, his focus on that bizarre signature.
“One of you has the brains to question your…institution. My next question, then, is…what are you doing about it?”
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“denied the catharsis of punishment” is an underappreciated but hugely effective narrative consequence imo
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I wear a button with the mark of the Outsider on my lapel and I get a LOT of comments on it. I’m often torn between answering ‘it’s a pagan thing’ or ‘it’s a video game thing’ and…
Well I’m a huge dork and in a fit of sleep deprivation thought it would be funny to make a chick-tract parody to show/give to people who asked…and then this happened.
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What would happen if you died in Dishonored?
The one who's kind...
You've been dead since the beginning. This is how the story goes. You die in every version, in every twist. You die in the rain, in the darkest alley. An unavoidable accident, that's how the story ends. We both know it isn't fair, but you always knew -in some way- you weren't meant to live long, you weren't meant for the history books or the most glorious battles. You were meant for a quiet death, simple, casual; it could've been easily prevented. And yet this is how the story goes. Your life was short, unremarkable. You were born in an alley like this one, maybe it was this one. Still, you're a fascinating creature. Answer me this, indulge me. Why the kindness? You've always been certain that you'd die young without a single accomplishment that'd keep your memory alive. And yet you'd always turn to kindness. How? Why? It's strange, isn't it? How in a life so full of misery you managed to spare a little kindness. Your name will fade, your actions will be diluted in the rain and none of those you helped will be able to recall your face. But they will remember the kindness, even if they don't, what you did will guide their actions: lower the raised knife, feed the wolfhound, spare some coin for the homeless child. What else there is to say about your life except that you, my friend, were kind.
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