Sky Blue
Mae
Snowdrops
Ithradine
4323O2
Plank Sinatra
Izurich
vietmyke
shylaraheh, maybe part of the way there.
Anyways.
Merry Christmas, everybody.
Anyways.
Merry Christmas, everybody.
HereComesTheSnow Member
dehydration expert
STATUS: trying to find the "golden ratio" of weed and ozempic to cause my appetite to stack overflow and reactivate the long-dormant photosynthesis gene from that 50% of DNA we share with plants. will update 12 days ago
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12 days ago
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trying to find the "golden ratio" of weed and ozempic to cause my appetite to stack overflow and reactivate the long-dormant photosynthesis gene from that 50% of DNA we share with plants. will update
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1 mo ago
many people dont know this but a good cue for deadlifting is to bring your chest up and lock your lats for proper spinal stability. this also applies to interacting with gorillas i'm told. testing no—
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3 mos ago
yeah i work in area 51, it's pretty chill. usually you just get a tweaker roll by on a "spiritual journey" once a month. they tend to go away once you put a few AIM-9s downrange on their flying saucer
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4 mos ago
man is closest to god after an ice cold beer in the warm shower. his mind and body are freed. next closest is behind the wheel in a scool zone, also with an ice cold beer in hand. study this well.
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5 mos ago
yeah mom its me can you come pick me up me and the boys were wondering if pulling a potato peeler over tommy's behelit would wake up the little guy in there and it started screaming.. thanks love you
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oh so they're all like this then
cool, princesses seem nice
cool, princesses seem nice
Proper princess reaction will almost certainly be a part of the next post, just feels kinda tacked onto the end of this one
Gerard Segremors
"You don't know anything of war, do you?"
An almost boyishly innocent question passed through the air between the five.
It was said without accusation, without vitriol, without even disdain. It simply was, posed as if to convey something so casual as having just figured out the time. Where the words might have seemed at home in a sneer that would cut her down like a cold blade, instead they were found in almost placid, contemplative murmur.
If Violette looked into Gerard's amber eyes, currently settled upon her, she would find no malice. Only a dawning recognition, an understanding that had always been under the current of his consciousness and had now clicked into a place upon the forefront. He beheld her not as an enemy, but simply as the uninformed.
"You're blessed for that. I hope you never need to."
Utter sincerity.
After all, it was in the end familiar. He had once been the same way, long ago, and though he dared not mention it so brazenly, he was willing to believe he would have been similarly disappointed. That she was a noblewoman only made it all the more so— high society made for a very demanding employer, and precious few understood the ramifications of what they ordered. Anything less than the job done was a waste, in their eyes, regardless of the lives spent in doing so. Go out and earn your gold, or get out of my sight.
If you die, you die. Nobody will remember you. I sure won't.
You fools all even wear the same mask. How can you expect me to?
I didn't pay you to be cowards.
...
He doubted she was one of those callous ones, at least. Much more likely the naive. Someone raised upon tales of the greatest heroes and heroines, who looked at each and every man to don armor as someone who simply must have some shining moment to their name.
As he had been. Perhaps as he still was now.
Nothing to do with class. This wasn't that. Everything to do with experience.
...It would be good if she never had to follow his path. Better she continue to learn from afar, safe from the pitch and fire.
"Thank you both for your words of encouragement," he continued simply, offering an earnest inclination of his head to the blondes. "We'll carry them in our hearts to the next battle. It is a rare soldier who's still sane to risk their life without fear—"
Jarde was not wrong to have his misgivings about the prospect of fighting such a legendary creature. At the very least he knew that his limits, as they were now, would not allow him favorable odds. When faced with such a strengthened specter of death looming over you, it would be the mark of a fool to feel nothing. Fear was a primal emotion. Something that had existed in humanity for as long as humanity itself had. It was not so easily forgotten as many seemed to think, and had to be forcibly burnt out over a long, long time; if one truly desired such a madness.
"It'll mean victory, won't it? Someone has to. Might as well be me."
That was all it could ever be called, madness. Lunacy. To cast off something so intrinsic to the mind completely... It was wrong. Knowing fear, understanding fear, recognizing fear— It all served to keep you alive. It was how your mind knew it you were in danger. Of course, if it paralyzed you, you were still as good as dead.
"This is insane... Six months and I still can't believe I'm doing this..."
Yet when the time had come, Jarde quelled his fear and fought.
That was courage. Not forgetting, nor embodying, but acknowledging, wrestling, and overcoming. A process made easier with time and experience, which Jarde had yet to obtain. And already, he had proven himself willing to stand against a monster like Jeremiah when the need for courage called. She couldn't know how much that meant. Faced with an insurmountable hurricane on your first battle, even if he was "just a bandit", she who had never worried of bloodshed couldn't know what it took.
"On your feet, newbie! Snap the fuck out of it!"
"I don't wanna die!"
But Gerard did. And he knew that it was a sign of things to come. As such:
"—but I'm certain your faith in us will make conquering it, again and again, so much the easier. Enough that when we next meet, we'll both have many more stories for you. Something truly valorous. Enough to finally excite you a little too, Lady Violette."
He meant every word.
Finally, well after the commotion had reached a fever pitch towards the head of the chamber, he too turned to witness the entrance of the Princess.
Work week starting. If you wanna go again @PaulHaynek, feel free to not wait on me if a muse captures you. I'll be jotting down the ideas I have and just posting when I find time and energy.
Princess in the house, time for the party to really kick off
Princess in the house, time for the party to really kick off
Gerard Segremors
What.
What.
"What?"
With a trio of blinks in rapid succession, it all fell away. Beneath Jarde continuing with his account, his brother in arms had finally slipped.
It's really more like extremely violent— Refined? What?
Eyes that had just chased out the nonplussed precursors of panic now turned fully to Jarde, shining openly with amber bewilderment. It was a momentary thing, one that passed in undercurrent beneath the two swoons and a sigh, but it was still undeniable— for all Gerard Segremors had spent attempting to be the spitting image of a correctly polite and unflappable knight, that veneer cracked.
For just an instant, Jarde and any others still watching the black-haired knight would find a distinctly ignoble, naked confusion on display.
It wasn't Jarde's fault— Gerard was certain that to him the difference between ruthless pragmatics and refined performance was much less clear than those more inundated in the art of swordsmanship. Rationally, there wasn't any reason for this to draw such a reaction— but rationality only made for so much of the mind, especially of the mind of a man still very much learning knighthood, with a self-image to match.
I'm not there yet. I'm not even close. He couldn't see that? My skill is nothing compared to—
"Ah!"
He shook his head free of the chains, shackles forged around his mind out of every mistake he knew he'd made.
"Ah."
At Angenese's words, he just as hurriedly snapped back to attention, his focus mostly regained.
"Good sir knights, have either of you ever seen a dragon?!"
"A dragon? No. Never in my life."
He spoke a little too quickly, more than he'd meant.
He had faced smoke. He had faced flame. Streaking death from above, hundreds of fangs that bit out at he and his fellows from the stark heavens. Armor that all but the sternest of strikes bounced off of. He had fought a great many things emblematic of those ferocious beasts.
And all of them were his fellow man, at the end of the day. It was unfortunate for the shimmery-eyed young women, but he had no such tales left. Nothing thrilling as the black-clad one described it, and nothing worth telling.
Just days logged in red.
It would be with this Order that he could pen a righteous and heroic story of the nature she seeked to hear, nowhere before. These were the threats the Roses had faced, not bands of swords for hire. He was in the right place now, but had not yet been present for the right time. How his heart leapt at the thought... The finest of a Knight's romances, and one's highest calling.
It would come to pass. And when it did, he would need to be ready for it— to be every bit as refined as his fellow apparently saw him now.
He cleared his throat, now conscious that the one-two punch of Jarde unwittingly challenging every self-assessment he had made in the past 48 hours and the noblewomen's excited questioning had left him, once again, off-balance in a sense. More than that, he was beginning to let it get to him— he couldn't let that continue.
"Should the opportunity arise I would leap at the chance to face one, that said, but I've not yet had the luck. But, I suppose that in its own way is lucky— Just as you said about Jeremiah, Angenese," he inclined his head, a little less bluntly intoning his words now. "That I haven't just means they aren't terrorizing our people, right?"
The former mercenary hadn't noticed, however, that he had let a casual manner of address slip through the cracks.
I’ll be going after the trio, in case it was unclear
This'll be a fun reaction to write
I'm sure you'll still keep me on my toes regardless. Butterfly effect, after all.
And I'm happy we're still trucking along on this side too. As much as I fret over my writing and overthink how I'm portraying this humble lunatic, getting to post is still one of the highlights of my week. Love you guys.
And I'm happy we're still trucking along on this side too. As much as I fret over my writing and overthink how I'm portraying this humble lunatic, getting to post is still one of the highlights of my week. Love you guys.
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