Tumgik
#formerly. but now you get the moots tag
megistusdiary · 2 months
Note
and thusly, i have been unmasked,,,
im gonna leave yall to feast on that while i go make dinner. enjoy girlies <3
-🎭, no longer anon
Tumblr media
happy birthday to me wtf i got a masterpiece fic, an art piece from the gods, and then said generous anons have unmasked themselves.
so much has happened today ong i feel so happy 😭😭
thank you both for sharing your wonderful talents with me and with everyone here on my blog!!! i literally adore you guys so much, you have no idea.
enjoy your dinner <3
4 notes · View notes
Text
In her answer to the "get to know your moots better" tag game, @justaboot mentioned she'd love to go backpacking in Ireland.
As someone who lives here, I am making this post for anyone who wants to visit Ireland at any point, and I figure now's as good a time as any.
Weather
It rains like 24/7 here so bring a fucking rain coat. And an umbrella. I'm so serious. There will be mornings where you'll leave your hotel/tent/wherever you're staying and you'll think "It doesn't look like it's going to rain" NO. BRING THE COAT. The sky is lying to you. Just because it doesn't look like it'll rain does NOT mean it's not gonna rain!!
The west and north tend to get worse weather, but rain happens everywhere here.
History
Not gonna get into it here because that'd be wayyyy too long of a post, but a lot of our tourist attractions rely on people having at least some kind of knowledge of Irish history and/or folklore. It's interesting, if a bit depressing at times, but I'm pretty sure that goes for all countries.
Long story short we were under British control for a really really really REALLY long-ass time, and we fought like hell to get our independence. Oh - speaking of which, if you're anywhere near the border between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland, it's a good idea to avoid wearing orange ESPECIALLY in or around July. This is because orange is seen as a symbol of Unionist beliefs (ie, the belief that Ireland should be part of the UK) and it's a REALLY touchy subject for a lot of people. Do your research. Trust me on that.
Language
First off, most people speak English here (unless you're in a Gaeltacht region, where people mainly speak Irish. These are located in Cork, Donegal, Galway, Kerry, Meath, Mayo and Waterford, and they can be a great cultural experience but it's not for the faint of heart.) However, there are like a zillion different regional accents so good fucking luck trying to understand people 😂😂
The way Irish people talk has some nice quirks, some of which I'll share here.
Craic (pronounced "crack") No, it's not drugs. The word craic generally means a good time or other happenings. There are three main ways the word is used.
"What's the craic?" = What's up?/Any news?
To have the craic = To have fun, especially at a party
"No craic" = Boring, nothing happening at all.
If someone invites you for a "cuppa" or better yet, a "cupán tae" (pronounced "cup awn tay") they want you to come in and have a cup of tea with them. This is usually accompanied by a LOT of small talk, which Irish people are experts at.
Other expressions vary WILDLY by county and sometimes even by region, so I'm afraid I'm not much help to you here.
Things To Do Here
First off, our restaurants are quite overpriced, as are our hotels. However, our healthcare is fairly cheap.
We have SO MUCH NATURAL SCENERY. If the weather allows, definitely go out and explore it! Just watch out if you're hiking, as the rain makes a lot of places muddy and slippy, so maybe bring the good hiking boots. We also don't have a lot of animals that can kill you, which is great!
As I mentioned, we have a lot of places to go that are based in our history, and they can be great places to learn about Ireland's past. But if you're not interested in history (which is fine) there are plenty of other options. We have a wax museum in Dublin, a theme park called Emerald Park (formerly Tayto Park, after an Irish potato chip brand) and a LOT of great theatres, pubs and clubs. Oh yes, if there's one thing we do well here, it's our night life!
We even have a coastal trail called the Wild Atlantic Way, which stretches all the way up our western coastline, from Cork to Donegal.
And lastly, if you're in the area, there is this fucking LEGENDARY ice cream parlour in Sligo called Mammy Johnstons. It's RIGHT next to the beach, and (in my limited experience) it's the BEST ice cream place in the country.
So yeah! Enjoy your trip!
🇮🇪🇮🇪🇮🇪
7 notes · View notes
idyllic-affections · 2 months
Note
Tumblr media
Greetings!
Hi, it is I, the person who you (now formerly) know as 🐉Anon! Was quite subtle with my anon moniker wasn't I? Eheh...
 Anyhow, Yeah, so this is me. You may have seen me among the people liking your posts! 
If you wanna, feel free to check out my blog. You… won't see much, save for some reblogs and my atrocious tagging on one of them LOL. I've got plans to post stuff there eventually, just not really sure what I wanna cook up, and the motivation for it also has its way of popping up at inconvenient times (example: I have a part-time job, and motivation tends to pop up then 💀). Okay, that first bit was kind of a lie, I know the kinds of things I wanna post about (those things being mainly OC-related stuff, as well as some fanfiction if I’m able to get myself to actually write my ideas out), I’m just having trouble figuring out where to start. I was thinking I should probably make a sorta “introduction post” before anything else, but I’m still figuring that out, among other things with this whole blog thing. I’m honestly pretty new to this sorta thing, hehe…
But that’s beginning to get off-topic! So anyway, yeah! Happy to join the moot crew, I look forwards to seeings the things you’ve got in planning, and maybe sharing!
As a sorta special something for you, the other moots, and the remaining emoji anons (if they wanna) to participate in, allow me to pose a little query for the community.
What is a fandom that you enjoy very much, but don’t really write for, or simply don’t talk much about for whatever reason?
For me, I’d have to look to my current hyper-fixation (as well as just in general being a childhood fav of mine), Transformers! Where I start with this one? It's kind of hard for me to put into words just how deeply this one in particular has touched me. I've It’s just such a truly incredible franchise with that is packed to the brim with many lovable (and extremely hateable), vibrant characters, and phenomenal stories across the numerous continuities crafted by countless very skilled writers tackling deep and often dark themes, and it honestly just has such a special place in my heart. And hey, the basis of a setting following the struggles of two faction of a race of shapeshifting alien robots and literal eon spanning war does have a certain flair to it, no?
But I’ve rambled on long enough now, haven’t I?
Until next time!
Tumblr media
i meant to answer this sooner BUT!!!!!! i am here now!!!! YOU. YOU WERE ONE OF THE "blorbo from my notes" PEOPLE, SOMEONE WHO WAS ALWAYS LIKING MY POSTS HAHA don't worry. you were not the only non-subtle emoji anon LMAO
that is so real and valid, motivation just does pop up at the worst of times. it's happened to me in the middle of standardized tests and other timed events before. it is both a blessing and a curse! introduction posts are a pretty good place to start, i think. but take your time fr it can be hard to figure out where and when to begin!!!
ohh for me, it might very well be voltron: legendary defender, or something of the like! i have a lot of fandoms i just Don't talk about, and there's really no reason why--i just don't. or it never comes up in conversation HAHA i also like gravity falls and good omens, things of that nature. i don't have the attention span to finish supernatural but i was into it for a while! but honestly that is so real, i have similar feelings about vld. i should rewatch it. it was a fundamental, formative experience for me in middle school. this shit is why i'm into hsr /hj........ but it is very dear to me!!!! there is a special place in my heart for the paladins <3
3 notes · View notes
middleearthpixie · 3 years
Text
Someone to Watch Over Me ~ Chapter Fifteen
Summary: In Laketown, Seren and Thorin risk taking the chance on each other, but then the dwarves come up with the idea of breaking into the Armory to steal weapons…
Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield/Seren (female OC, formerly of Dale)
Characters: The Company, Bard the Bowman, Tilda, Sigrid, and Bain, the denizens of Laketown
Rating: T
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2,629
Additional Information: If you’d like to be added to the tag list, please let me know! And feel free to reblog this if you've enjoyed it!
@tschrist1
Tumblr media
The man’s name was Bard and he lived in Laketown and after a bit of a back and forth between him, Thorin, and Balin, the Lake-man agreed to smuggle them into Laketown.
Seren sat at the stern of his flat-bottomed barge, trying to ignore how cold she was, but it wasn’t easy. Frost layered her hair, made her cuffs crunchy, and no matter how tightly she wrapped her arms about herself, she shivered.
Thorin and Dwalin spoke quietly amongst themselves. Kili sat against his brother, pale and shivering as well. The others were quiet altogether.
The lake that gave Laketown its name might as well have been an ocean, as land seemed to be little more than a line on the horizon in any direction. In the distance, the town itself rose from the center of the lake, with canals instead of streets and the houses stretching skyward instead of outward.
“Everyone, we need more coins,” Balin said softly. “We are fifteen short.”
Seren winced, her entire body aching as she reached for the oilskin sack holding her money. It was the only personal possession she had left. Her sword and knives were in Mirkwood. Her original clothes had been left in Rivendell. Her sack vanished when the ponies bolted after their first battle with the orcs.
She unwound the leather thong cinching it and spilled the coins into her palm. Too tired to count any of it, she pushed up to her feet and walked over to dump the lot of it into Balin’s small palm. “Take it. I’ve no need for any of it.”
Balin looked up at her. “I cannot take all of this, Seren.” He glanced at the others. “Don’t be stingy, lads. Pay up.”
Seren tossed the oilskin into the lake. “I have no way to carry any of it now.”
Thorin came over to her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
He pressed his hand to her forehead and she smacked it away as he said, “You feel warm.”
“Impossible. I’m freezing.” She turned to go back to where she had been sitting.
He crossed the deck to crouch before her. “Seren.”
“I’m fine, Thorin. Just tired and banged up. Again. I just—“ She stopped, shaking her head as she stared off toward Laketown. Her thoughts were such tangled knot, she didn’t know which end was up or which loose end to pull.
“You just what?”
“I just rather wish I’d stayed in Bree. Or the Shire. Or anywhere else.” She glanced over at Bilbo, who seemed to be studying them, but then sharply turned away. “And I think he is jealous.”
Thorin glanced over toward the hobbit, then back at her. “I think you see something that isn’t there.”
She knew better, but didn’t feel much like arguing about it. “I feel as if everything has grown far more complicated.”
“Because they know you aren’t a lad?”
“That.” She met his gaze. “And us, I suppose.”
A hint of mischief came into his blue eyes. “I thought you said there was no us?”
A heavy sigh rose to her lips and she let her head all forward into her hands. “Maybe there is… I don’t know. Nothing is the way I thought it would be. No one was supposed to ever know I was a woman. It is so much easier when the world thinks me a boy.”
Thorin rose with a grunt and shifted to sit beside her. Glancing at the others, he said, “They are all fond of you, Seren. Every man in this company sees you as one of us.”
“But I’m not one of you. Even more so now.”
“You are. You just haven’t realized it yet.”
Without thinking, she let her head come to rest against his shoulder. It just felt natural, and he didn’t seem to mind it, either. Across from them, Gloín argued over giving up ten more coins, and she smiled as the others tried to convince him it would be in his best interest to do so.
Her eyes closed as Thorin pressed a kiss into the top of her head. “Your hair is frosty.”
“I’m turning into an icicle.”
“We’re almost there.”
She mangled a smile, then lifted her head at the sudden tension in his shoulder. He abruptly stood, but said nothing and as her curiosity got the better of her, she also rose.
In the distance, shrouded in mist, stood the Lonely Mountain. It was serene and majestic and she could feel what it meant to the dwarves around her as they all, one by one, caught sight of it and went silent. Gloín, without a word, handed over the rest of his money to Balin.
Seren glanced up at Thorin. His expression was unreadable, and for the first time, he looked like a king to her as the lake breeze wafted across the water to lift his dark hair away from his face as he simply gazed toward the mountain.
Her hand found its way into his, and she smiled as he linked his fingers with hers and gave a gentle squeeze. As his thumb grazed hers, she wished she could forget her secret and trust in what Amara had told her. But she couldn’t. If she confessed her true feelings for him, she would only hurt him when the time came to spill her secret. No, it was better this way. This way, the only one who ran the risk of getting hurt was her, and she was more comfortable with that than with being the one who hurt Thorin.
Bard broke the heavy silence. “We are almost at the gate. Into the barrels with you.”
She bit back a sigh as Thorin’s hand slipped from hers, and one by one, they all did as they were told. As the barge glided to a halt before the checkpoint, Seren fought the urge to poke her head up and see what was going on.
Not that it mattered. The answer to her question came in the form of hundreds of slimy, stinky codfish seemingly falling from the sky to fill each one of the barrels. She gagged at the stink and tried to ignore the slippery scales pasted up against her hands, her face, stuck in her hair. She closed her eyes and tried to will away the rising nausea. It’s only for a few minutes.
Above, through the fish, came the sound of Bard arguing with someone. Then, someone shouted, “Dump the barrels!” and her heart skipping a beat. Any moment, and they’d all be exposed and arrested and that meant another cell. Of course, if she was tossed into one with Bofur, he wouldn’t have to worry about Smaug.
No, that wasn’t true. She wasn’t really angry with him. It was almost a relief, actually, not having to pretend any longer. And perhaps Dwalin was right and her voice gave her away before Bofur did. To her, her voice sounded throaty and almost husky, like a boy’s before it changed. But it was entirely possible what she heard and what others heard were not the same voice.
Either way, it was moot. They all knew.
“Never mind,” came the same voice who’d ordered the barrels dumped, and Seren breathed a sigh of relief as she closed her eyes and let her forehead come to rest against the inside of her barrel. It stunk of fish. She would be eternally grateful to never, ever see the inside of another barrel ever again.
The barge resumed its glide through the now-calm canals, and when they finally stopped and Bard said, “Come along. Follow me and do not draw attention to yourselves,” she and the others all popped up from their barrels to send fish in all directions, to the bemusement of the dock-master.
Bard flipped him a gold piece. “You didn’t see any of this, Percy,” he said as he helped one dwarf after another from the barge. “And you can have the fish as well.”
“See any of what?” Percy asked, his gaze following each dwarf as he passed by.
From the corner of her eye, Seren saw how his gaze lingered on her, and she bit back a smile as Thorin’s hand caught hers and he gave a gentle tug as he said to Percy, “She’s with me.”
“Thorin!”
He glanced down at her. “What?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because you are.”
“Since when?”
He didn’t reply, but tugged on her arm to pull her along as Bard led them through the alleys of Laketown. Although the populace of Laketown was that of Man, they all seemed to tower over both her and the dwarfs. Still, they moved through the crowded marketplace, attracting only bit of attention, and Thorin did not let go of her the entire time. He laced his fingers with hers, and every now and again, his thumb grazed hers.
Bard’s home was in the center of town and he stopped a block or so from there and said, “The Lake Master has eyes on my home at all times. There is only one way to get in without being seen.”
He turned to them. “Can you all swim?”
The thought of plunging into the icy lake water was not at all appealing to Seren, but she followed the others and gritted her teeth to keep them from shattering against one another as the dwarves swam silently along the canal toward the house at the center of town.
But that wasn’t the worst part about it.
“Da,” a tall blond girl called over her shoulder as Seren peered up at her, “why are there dwarves coming out of our toilet?”
Seren rolled her eyes as she climbed up and out into what served as the bathroom. Soaked to the skin, still aching, and now frozen besides, she said, “How do you do?”
“Sigrid,” Bard appeared down the narrow hallway, “take Seren and find her something warm and dry to wear. Your brother and I will tend to the others.”
To say Sigrid looked confused would be an understatement, but she nodded and said, “Come with me, then.”
Seren squelched along behind her, into a cozy little room at the rear of the tall house. As Sigrid closed the door behind them, she said, “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in my brother’s clothes?”
“Miss Sigrid,” Seren offered up a slight smile, “I’m not a boy.”
The girl blushed and clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry… I thought—“
“It’s all right. Everyone thought at first.” She grimaced as she tugged the leather thong holding her braid securely and unwound her hair to let it stream over her shoulders. “I would be more comfortable, but I doubt anything of his would fit me.”
“No. Most likely not. But, I’m afraid all I have are dresses.”
“If it’s dry, I’ll treasure it.”
Sigrid moved to a battered wardrobe and opened it. “Everything is dry and warm, I promise you that.”
Seren sighed as she fought to peel off her wet tunic and leggings and hose. Her boots left puddles on the floor, but there was nothing she could do about that. Sigrid passed her a towel without turning about and Seren went to work drying her body and then her hair as best she could.
When she emerged from the wardrobe, Sigrid had a fresh muslin chemise and a lovely, if slightly faded, gown of deep green velvet. “These are old, but I’ve take care with them and this sis my favorite dress. I thought you might like to wear something pretty.”
The girl’s generosity touched Seren, her throat tightened and her eyes stinging as they fell on the beautiful dress. It had been years since she’d last been in a dress, never mind something as pretty as this one. “Are you certain? It’s so pretty, I’d hate to ruin it.”
Sigrid set the clothes on the bed. “I’m positive. Please, take it.”
Seren shrugged into the chemise, the muslin cool and smooth against her skin, and Sigrid helped her into the dress. It was a bit snug in the bodice, but otherwise it fit perfectly and as she smoothed a hand along the velvet skirt, she looked up and said, “I cannot even begin to thank you.”
“There is no need for that. No one would mistake you for a boy now.”
Seren peered at her reflection in the small mirror hanging on the back of the bedroom door. Her hair was mostly dry now, thick and tumbling over her shoulders in loose curls and for the first time in a lifetime, she felt like a girl.
“I have dry hose,” Sigrid dove into the wardrobe again, “but your feet look tiny. Perhaps a pair of Tilda’s slippers will fit you until your boots dry.”
She moved to the second wardrobe, the one Seren presumed belonged to her sister and a minute later, she had on a pair of pale green slippers that fit her almost as if they had been made for her.
“Sigrid?” Bard rapped gently on the door. “Is everything all right?”
She tugged open the door. “It’s fine, Da.”
Bard’s gaze fell on Seren and she didn’t miss how his back stiffened. “Miss Seren,” he said with a hint of a smile. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you.”
“The others won’t know what hit them.”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes as she ventured down the narrow hallway, toward the great room, where the noise ceased as soon as she stepped into the room. Her cheeks grew warm as fourteen pairs of eyes slid in her direction and widened.
“Seren?” Bofur asked as if he might be mistaken.
“Stop. It’s still me. I’m just dry now.”
“Oh, lassie, you are more than that,” Dwalin said softly. “Wouldn’t you say, Thorin?”
She looked over at him, biting back a smile at the wide-eyed stare Thorin offered up in return. A slow smile lifted the corners of his lips as he said, “You look lovely, Seren.”
“Thank you. I feel like a sore thumb, however. And if I trip over this skirt, I will hurt the first one who laughs.”
“No one is going to laugh.” Thorin stepped up and to her surprise, caught both of her hands in his. “We should talk.”
“Not now,” she said, mindful of how the others all tried to inch closer and listen to their conversation. “Don’t you have weapons to procure? I’d like my steel back.”
“That isn’t going to happen,” he said, releasing her hands. “Your blades, our blades—they are all somewhere in Mirkwood.”
Dwalin looked over at Bard. “You promised us weapons. Where are they?”
Bard sighed softly. “I will bring them up. They will not be what you are used, to, though.”
While the others waited for him to return with weapons, Seren moved away from the room, toward the rear of the house. She peered out the window at Laketown spread out before them. Dale was just on the far side of the lake. Erebor just beyond it.
Their quest was almost at an end.
She peered over her shoulder at the others. Bard had returned with the promised weapons, which were in reality just modified boating tools, much to the dwarves’ dismay. They demanded weapons of iron, true weapons, only to be told the Lake Master confiscated all the weapons years earlier and kept them locked in the town armory.
Thorin and Balin huddled together and she couldn’t hear them, but from their serious expressions, she had the feeling at some point, dwarves were going to raid the armory. Somehow, she also had the feeling it would not end well for them.
4 notes · View notes
hookaroo · 5 years
Text
Vocivore, Ltd. (4 of ?)
A OUAT WINTER WHUMP FIC
Also on FFN and AO3 (ListerofTardis)
Tagging @ouatwinterwhump​ and @killian-whump​ <3
Six weeks ago…
“You guys all right?”
After checking that her husband and his counterpart were not being followed, Emma holstered her gun and headed to meet them. Killian’s shirt was torn at the shoulder, and Detective Jones--formerly Rogers--appeared to be limping.
“We were attacked by a half-dozen slaves,” admitted Killian with a grimace. Now at arm’s length, Emma hooked a finger beneath the fabric of his shirt to examine the bloody slash beneath.
“Same old story,” she replied. “The difference being that everyone else had the sense not to engage. You know, like we agreed?”
As Emma spread her hand and hovered it over the wound, Detective Jones spoke up.
“To be fair, this particular group was markedly loathe to let us retreat. Could be they were trying to recruit new colleagues… or we were nearing their base and they felt they had to defend it.”
Emma flexed her fingers and rotated her wrist a few times. Her healing magic felt sluggish somehow, as if being forced through a half-clogged drain. Killian watched her with one eyebrow raised.
“Everything okay, love?”
“Yeah, just… hold on a sec…”
She closed her eyes in concentration, and with an extra burst of effort, she finally managed to call forth the recalcitrant power. It took nearly double the usual amount of time, but the cut did eventually seal closed. Killian released his breath and placed a kiss on his wife’s forehead.
“Thank you.”
She responded with a tired smile and then turned to Jones. “Let’s see.”
Sheepishly, he waved off her concern. “I’m okay; don’t waste your magic on me.”
Emma shot him her best Killian-you’re-being-an-idiot look. “You want to walk all the way back to the car like that? When there could be zombie slaves waiting behind any tree, wanting to kill us?”
With a rueful smile and shake of his head, Jones relented and hobbled to a nearby fallen log.
“I stumbled back against some sort of rock ledge,” he explained, taking a seat and beginning to roll up the right leg of his jeans. “Got a bit scraped up.”
“And then fell flat on his arse,” teased Killian. “Didn’t you, mate?”
“Like you haven’t done that a hundred times since I met you,” scoffed Emma. Jones merely smiled and struggled to get the denim higher around his calf.
“I’m happy to report that my arse is fine. Although the point is entirely moot, considering that I would never, under any circumstances, subject either of you to that sight.”
Killian appeared as if he didn’t know whether to look scandalized or intrigued. And if Emma was more on the side of intrigue, she quickly covered it up with a sympathetic wince as the injury to Jones’ leg was revealed.
A livid abrasion ran the outer length of his lower leg, ankle to knee. Fairly shallow overall, only weeping small droplets of blood in pinprick patterns, it nevertheless had to be pretty sore. Emma knelt beside him and positioned both hands above the damaged flesh.
Long moments went by with no appreciable improvement. Jones looked questioningly up at Killian, who shook his head, just as clueless. Jones shifted his weight and began,
“You know, Emma, if you’re tired, I’m sure we could ask Regina to--”
“Shut up and let me concentrate,” Emma muttered without malice. The detective closed his mouth.
“It’s like… really low signal on the cell phone,” she explained a moment later. The outer edges of the abrasion were beginning to fade, although agonizingly slowly. “The call keeps… cutting out.”
Jones fidgeted minutely on the log, the prickle of magic producing a strong temptation to squirm. “Why would that be, do you think?”
“No frickin’ clue.” She was sweating now. Killian fished out a canteen of water for her, holding it between arm and torso as he unscrewed the lid. “Just that the closer we get to the hideout, the stronger the interference.”
“So the brain-shriveling monster also has magical shielding,” remarked Killian with a dramatic glance up at the heavens. “Just what we needed.”
Jones’ knuckles were turning white as he gripped the wood beside him. He was sweating, too.
“You can stop now, if you need to,” he grunted. “The leg’s already feeling much improved.”
“Don’t be such a baby,” chided Emma gently. “I’m almost done.”
As it seemed she no longer needed to concentrate quite so hard--due to momentum or just stubborn willpower--Killian decided to take pity on the other man and give him something else to focus on, asking of Emma,
“Where’s David?”
“Back at the rendezvous. Meeting the others there. Apparently Regina’s group came across a half-dead slave and are already transporting him to Storybrooke.”
She lifted her hands to check beneath, and the last remnants of the injury faded from view. She and Jones heaved simultaneous sighs of relief; Killian smiled and then held out his hand to help her up.
“Much better,” admitted Jones with an experimental rotation of his ankle. “Thank you.”
Emma nodded and chugged her water. As the detective worked to adjust his jeans, she said,
“Well, we seem to be on the right track. Plotting everything on a map was a good idea.”
Killian didn’t appear to be much encouraged by their progress. “Knowing the general whereabouts of this ‘master’ is still a far cry from defeating him. It’s apparent we can’t sneak in, even through deserted forest. We can’t approach brazenly unless we want an all-out battle. So what now?”
“Henry thought maybe aerial scouting. He wants to order a drone off Amazon.” Emma shrugged. “It would at least confirm for us the exact location of the hideout.”
Jones got to his feet and retrieved his own canteen. “I’m not certain the United Realms is a valid delivery option.”
“It’s not. We’d have to pick it up from a Locker somewhere.” Emma inclined her head in the direction of where they’d left their vehicles, and the two Killians fell into step with her.
“Let’s hope the hideout is within range of the drone’s battery,” mused Jones. “I’m almost positive that Amazon doesn’t sell manned aircraft.”
17 notes · View notes
lady-rian · 6 years
Text
Interview With Rian Kestavin
Tumblr media
► Name ➔    “Rian Jessyn Kestavin, Formerly Valteric.”
► Are you single ➔ “No. I’m quite happily married.” ► Are you happy ➔   “Most days.” ► Are you angry? ➔   “I have my struggles with anger, my faith helps temper them.” ► Are your parents still married ➔   “Until the day my mother passed.”
NINE FACTS
► Birth Place ➔ “Ironforge. Mother happened to be visiting father while he had reprieve from war.” ► Hair Color ➔ “Dark Brown, nearly black.” ► Eye Color ➔ “Grey-green.” ► Birthday ➔ “March third.” ► Mood ➔ “Content in a small reprieve but I’ve been pensive with a few recent reports that have been brought to my attention.” ► Gender ➔ “Female.” ► Summer or winter ➔ “Toss up between summer and fall, I love the green of summer and the crisp of fall.” ► Morning or afternoon ➔ “Afternoon, I wake up early most mornings but there’s always a need for coffee to completely pull through it.”
EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE
► Are you in love ➔ “Very much.” ► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “No, least I’m not really sure how it could happen. There are plenty of handsome men and women out there but they’re right awful in person.” ► Who ended your last relationship ➔ “I did. There were things about our relationship I couldn’t accept, no matter how hard I tried.” ► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “Yes. Though in truth it broke mine too.” ► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ “No. Things can only get accomplished when we make the commitment to them and ourselves to move forward and become better.” ► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Everyday if I can help it. My daughter and my husband.” ► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “I don’t think so? If I had they kept the secret pretty well, I haven’t noticed.” ► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “I did. In faith that the days to follow would be hard but better would come of it. My daughter and I deserved that much.”
SIX CHOICES
► Love or lust ➔ “Love.” ► Cats or Dogs ➔ “Dogs. My father raised wolf hounds. I gave Thaylynn two of the pups as a wedding present. Jax and Dexter now watch over Serenity like big brothers.” ► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “I’d like to think a few best friends, I tend to keep a distance so it’s more many regular friends in truth.” ► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “If I had to choose, probably a romantic night in. I’ve also recently been introduced to more nights out. It’s nice but to slow down with Thaylynn I feel like I can breath and recharge in the calm.” ► Day or night ➔ “Day. I like to be productive and am usually up with or before the sunrise anyway. On the rare chance, a nap in a field off the path with Duke is the perfect afternoon.”
FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS
► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “Yes. I used to sneak out before mother’s lessons and get lost in the woods. Usually to spar with sticks with Jackson.” ► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “Yes, believe it or not I was a terribly clumsy child.” ► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “Yes.” ► Wanted to disappear ➔ “Yes. Some days more than others.”
FOUR PREFERENCES
► Smile or eyes ➔ “Eyes. Emotions play on the eyes whether a person is happy or sad, the truth is in the eyes.” ► Shorter or Taller ➔ “Taller.” ► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ “Intelligence. If no one’s home it really is difficult to feel a connection with someone to garner attraction.” ► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ “Relationship, though that’s really all I’ve known.”
FAMILY
► Do you and your family get along ➔ “We do most days. I’m not my brother’s keeper and Light knows I had my differences with both he and my mother. Any hard time was simply because we cared for the other enough to fight for one another.” ► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “Possibly. I’ve not exactly lead a life of expectations for a noble woman, daughter, or wife. I fulfill duty outside my own house. I guess some might see that as messed up. I wouldn’t call it that though.” ► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ “‘Twice. Once as a child and once two years ago. Not sure that counts but still held consequences.” ► Have you ever been kicked out ➔ “Probably the closest was a suspension. Wasn’t so much kicked out as told to take leave to get my head together. I didn’t go back.”
FRIENDS
► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “I don’t really hate anyone. Extremely dislike? yes.” ► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “No. I care for all of my friends but I know that effort is not always mirrored. Not that it’s anyone’s fault, just what is.” ► Who is your best friend ➔ “My husband will always be the only one I consider my best friend. He knows more of me than anyone and the only one I trust enough to know me so well.” ► Who knows everything about you ➔ “I’m not sure anyone knows everything about me. Likely my brother and my husband.”
tagged by: @alliesweetsong-wra & @dae-shadowvale Tagging: @thaylynnkestavin @conwulf @thalsianiii @fel-temptation and anyone who would like to!
10 notes · View notes