#myrkt

[voidtouched-blue]

Starter for @myrkt

There it was...the mother crystal of Ash. The marked bearer had never been close enough to see it before. She drank in it's majesty, her gaze tracing every shape of it until her eyes caught the stone structures that were gathered around it. The castle was likely made from the same stone as the one she called home, and as her lord and master had promised, they would be making this brilliant city their own. The self-proclaimed Lord of Ash was an arrogant idiot with a talent for warfare. Well, much less on the talent and more along the lines of brute force. His methods were simple: he was a savage leader. The conquered villages or neighboring lords would submit to him, or he would show them no mercy. With the threat of the blight creeping ever closer to his territory, he decided the only place suitable for a man of his stature was the heart of Ash itself. Any other warlord would have tossed his plan to siege the castle of Waloed outright. And they would be right to. However, the "Lord of Ash" believed himself a God with his special prize at his side. He had proven himself a beast in countless battles in the previous years. Holding his own castle against a company of orcs, and men alike, as well as expanding his territory through conquest after conquest. With every successful annexation through battle, his name became more well known among the southern coast. Eventually, the name his mother had given him had been replaced with "Lord Ash" as word of his immortality began to spread across the region. The man was a demon in battle. Even with a slave chained to his belt, he could survive what most would consider a fatal blow. Survivors had seen him fall on the battle field many times, but all it took was a brief flash of light and he was back on his feet. He became so confident in his immortality that he purposefully left openings in his guard. Every wound he suffered was miraculously healed, and he would continue fighting.

"Quit gawking." Lord Ash grumbled at the creature he dragged along behind him. A bearer for sure, but rather than walking beside him freely, a thick metal collar jerked her forwards when the knight yanked the chain. She coughed, sputtered, and fell to her hands and knees at the sharp tug. Wordlessly, she pushed herself up to her feet and tugged the hood close around her face. The poor girl had been covered from head to toe in various bits of clothing to keep her appearance concealed. Lord Ash did not want his precious little secret grabbing attention on the battlefield. He even commanded her to conceal most of her face in cloth bandages in hopes that a sickly visage would prevent enemies from targeting her. The only part of her that saw the light of day were her hands. Those he would need easy access to if he were injured. This shrouded bearer was his secret to his unnaturally maintained life. Founder preserve me. Another battle, and I pray that I live to see the moon at least one more time. She thought. Her emaciated hands clasped together as he leaned around the large man to peer at the host of soldiers in front of him. Their numbers severely eclipsed theirs. She wasn't good with math, but the quantity alone frightened her. If she wanted to live, she would have to focus and hopefully find an opportunity to escape in the chaos. Maybe she could slip out of the fighting and into the nearby forest. But first thing's first, she had to survive reaching the battlefront first.

[ofengineers]

@myrkt reacted: i've been thinking about this all day... yeah. bite him!!! a proper toddler monch! deserved

Mid heard them argue. Cid and Barnabas. She doesn't know why it keeps happening, but as the King walks nearby, she can't help but take his hand... and bite it. She's scared of him sometimes, but now, she just wants her daddy to be happy.

"Stop arguing, please." She then asks politely, as nothing happened.

[valiisthea]

@myrkt || Dion

Dion is buzzing with anxiety. It's rare he sees Barnabas Tharmr instead of Odin, but Bahamut still stirs with uncertainty in the center of his chest as if it wants to protect him.

That does little for the anxiety that makes his heart pound feverishly against his ribs. A small part of him wonders if his unease is palpable -

He takes a deep breath, and steps forward.

"Your Majesty," he greets, sure to bring forth his finest manners. He knows not what Barnabas intends to say or do, but if he can keep things civil, mayhap conflict can be avoided for the time being. The dragoons at his side, Terence included, all bare weapons in the king's direction. With a quick snap of his fingers, they are hesitantly lowered and his men stand at ease once again. "I pray you forgive this most unhospitable welcome. I daresay your appearance was nigh unexpected."

And oh, is his heart ever hammering away. Knowing not what to expect is taking its toll on his nerves.

"Please," he even offers something akin to a bow, gesturing towards his tent. "I will send the dragoons for food and drink, should you so desire."

[bestboygav]

For @myrkt - a semi-plotted random starter

It had only been a few days since they’d gotten news from one of Cid’s confidants down in Boklad. Waloeder soldiers had been spotted closer to the Dzemekys Falls, though nobody was sure why. Cid seemed concerned, though. More so than usual, which struck Gav as a little odd. If they were seen around the Falls, that meant they were interested in either Dhalmekia or the Crystalline Dominion, right? The look on Cid’s face as he pondered the information made him think there was more to this than he was understanding. 

Which was exactly why he was here, in Dhalmekia, looking for said Waloeder soldiers. “Stay out of sight and out of trouble. Any inkling of things going south, you return to the hideaway.” Those were Cid’s exact words. It had put him on edge the whole time he was getting ready to head out. Cid seemed to have noticed the change in mood, since he followed with, “You’ll be fine, Gav. It’s only a handful of Waloeder soldiers. Nothing you can’t handle.” Honestly, the flip-flop between his mood and words hadn’t made Gav feel any better before he left. 

At least everything seemed normal so far on his end. Dhalmekia wasn’t the easiest place to scout in during the day - what with the blinding sun and lack of real cover to hide in. Nothing but rocks and Fallen ruins around, so he’d been sticking to their shadows the best he could. Everything became a little easier once night came and he could get closer to their camp. It was still hard to hear what they were saying - the moon was just a little too bright, so he decided to err on the side of caution, hanging back a bit in the darker shadows.

Thankfully it seemed that whatever they were saying wasn’t important. They seemed to be drunk and having a good time, which made him start to wonder why they were even here in the first place. There was no acting commander - that he could see - so why were a handful of random Waloeder soldiers happily making camp in the middle of the desert? 

He’d almost started inching closer when he finally heard a new voice in the mix. It sent a shiver down his spine that froze him in place. He wasn’t well versed in the chain of command within the Waloeder army, but whoever this new voice belonged to had to be pretty important; after all, the drunken merriment ended as soon as a few words were spoken. Every nerve in his being was telling him to run. Flee. Escape while you still can. But he couldn’t move. He needed to. Cid had told him to come back if things felt off. Everything felt off. If he moved now, though, he’d definitely be spotted. 

Heart thumping against his chest, he waited in stiff silence. It had only been a few minutes, at most, but it felt like hours. And then everything was back to normal. Whoever that voice belonged to was gone. The oppressive air cleared and the soldiers from before were back to their drunken merriment. The experience had definitely shaved a few years off of his life, but he’d survived it. He needed to get a stolas back to Cid as quickly as possible, so he slowly started leaving the area, keeping an eye on his surroundings the best he could. The dark of night helped hide him, but who knew what was lurking just out of reach.

[tripleflames]

I can't remember if I sent anything for your rp strengths meme or if I was too shy BUT your prose is so fantastic. You have a great way of conveying characterization so subtly but naturally, it's very juicy to read.

what are my strengths as a roleplayer?

i read this, did the equivalent of a heart eyes meme complete with squee noise irl and then, somehow, completely forgot to reply to this ...... I AM SO SORRY SBFJHSABFHS but also thank you so so much, it means a lot considering you're such an awesome writer as well and as i've already said i really love the grasp you have on barnabas? your headcanons are always a joy to read ( very juicy, as you say, like a nice steak ) and i'm still rubbing my lil gremlin hands together at our thread.

[secondflame-archive]

strands (for sparking joy)

[ 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 ] : sender grabs the receiver by the hair.

Clive has stopped counting how many times the two of them have clashed of late. Their encounters blurr into one another, pitting might against might, and no matter how many times he is pushed away, fought down, defeated, told 'Not yet' it is more frustrating than the last.

He's aware the king is playing with him, using Odin's powers when he doesn't need them simply to drive him near mad with hunger for it. It makes every fibre of his being ache. He can even feel it in his teeth.

Clive is panting heavily while Barnabas stands before him unfazed, with that twice-damned smile on his face. He drops the armor in a flurry of shadow, tilting his head, tempting him. Clive is so sick of it.

He wants more.

Something shifts within him, his eyes flicker from golden to bright blue. His mind grows quiet, the hissing and snarling of the Eikons he has consumed turning more calm, more focused.

His next movement is quicker, fluid, but sharp, and there is an overwhelming sense of satisfaction when he sees the king's brow raise as they collide with an impact strong enough to shake the castle grounds. Clive swears he sees the darkness of his eyes lift briefly, the dullness of their color turning brighter, as if a veil briefly lifts, but whether he is pleased or surprised, Clive doesn't have the time to discern, he sees an opening and takes it. Metal sings as he fights his opponent's sword aside. He bears down on it with much more force than usual, both their arms trembling with the force they measure against eachother.

But this moment is enough to step close and without hesitation bury his teeth deep into the other's exposed neck and the king lets him. Relief mingles with adrenaline, the rush that goes through him scorching, akin to Ifrit's flame, volatile and dark when the first taste of blood meets his tongue.

The slow seap of foreign aether into his own being is what completely enraptures him after, it has him bite down harsher. He doesn't strictly need to this. Any wound would do, but there is something about feeling his pulse and the shift of his muscles that makes this all the more rewarding—

A sharp pain goes through him when fingers curl tightly in his hair, dislodging him from Barnabas' shoulder, the pull of aether fades.

No.

No!

He snarls, teeth bared as he is forced to his knees by an unrelenting grip at the base of his skull. His eye color fades back to the gold they've carried for over a decade as he looks up at the king, losing control, losing focus. "Bastard—" He hisses, his teeth and lips still covered with blood, the wound on the crook of Barnabas' neck leaking red liquid over his chest and into his tunic.

Clive hopes it scars, hopes that he'd cause the other man a fraction of the agony he feels at being denied yet again.

[betrayingcrown]

☎️🐠🔑

my experience in the roleplaying community

☎ my first character i ever roleplayed

it'd be my oc shiro! @puellistic-blog its a remade blog but i unfortunately lost access to it and cant log back on. otherwise id be active there too

🐠 why i love (or hate) this hobby

i love it bc i love world building and developing characters. also its a good exercise to keep my english at a good level since it's not my first language lol

🔑 my favorite type of threads

i'm not going to be ashamed but smut followed by (slow-burn) romance and angst right after it are my top 3,,

[flamesofrebirths]

What type of villain are you?

Then Let Me Be Evil

You never wanted to hurt anyone, but the world never gave you a choice. You did the best you could with what you had, but every innocent mistake you made was held against you when it counted, every crossroads led you down the wrong path no matter which way you went. No matter what you did, the odds were stacked against you. It wasn't fair, and you are sick and tired of being told what a monster you are for things out of your control. Well, fine. They want a monster? YOU'LL GIVE THEM A MONSTER!

tagged by: @myrkt, thank you ❤ tagging: @txnichtgut (theo) @ofmoonlily @nivaera (jote) @oracle-venus (clive) @lightwxrden & YOU ;D

[braveryhearted]

Difficult person test Clive Rosfield

You are a somewhat difficult person to get along with (54.29%).

"This is fine I suppose......"

Tagged: @hauntedreality Tagging: @myrkt @valiisthea @tsckcyomi and others that have FF 16 muses. Say that I tagged you. :3

[theeasternseassoblue]

Onsdag 2. november

Vart ein «kviledag» i Nagasaki der me ikkje var ut med bilen og haldt oss i ro på same hotellet. Me delte oss opp på føremiddagen, eg tok trikken nordover til museum, medan resten tok det roleg. På atombombe-museet hadde dei tatt med hendingane som leia opp til bombinga og fylgjene av det. Men det største fokuset låg på sjølve åtaket og korleis det endra byen og påverka ofra. Mykje var likt frå museet me var på i Hiroshima i 2015, og same konsekvensane.

Etter museet vart det vandring i Fredsparken, før eg tok trikken tilbake til sentrum. Var ein tur innom Dejima, ei tidlegare øy som vart nytta som fristad for nederlendarar frå 1600-1800-talet. Under denne tida var dei dei einaste vestlege som fekk lov å handle med Japan, og då spesifikt frå denne staden i Nagasaki. Nagasaki har forresten ein av dei eldste Chinatowns i Japan, sjølvsagt grunna den korte avstanden til fastlands-asia.

På ettermiddagen gjekk me rundt i byen og kikka og handla litt. Då det blei myrkt tok me bussen til ein taubanestasjon der me tok oss opp til eit observatorie. På vegen opp fekk me høyre at Nagasaki har saman med Monaco og Shanghai den beste utsikta over byen nattestid.

No nærmar turen seg snart slutten, berre tre dagar ilag i Japan att. Imorgon er planen å ta oss til Sasebo, så får me sjå kva som skjer på fredag.

[voidtouched-blue]

What Type of Villain Are You?

For the Greater Good

Perhaps you do not believe what you are doing can truly be classified as evil. Perhaps some people will be hurt from the immediate consequences of your actions, but what the masses fail to see is the immense good that will come of your plans. Maybe you act in the name of science, or for your people who have fallen on great tragedy. Maybe you see cracks in a failing system and want to uproot it through chaotic, destructive means to avoid greater tragedy down the line. Maybe you're just in with a bad crowd, but you can't leave them, no matter how unsavory their intentions, because they're your only ticket to your ultimate goals. No matter what, your goals are noble, and you take no joy in wreaking havoc or hurting those in your way, but the evils you partake in are necessary. If you need to play the bad guy to ensure a better future, then you are willing to play that part.

Quite accurate!

Tagged by: @myrkt (thanks for tagging me!)

Tagging: @musesofawolf , @forgotten-contract

[ofengineers]

Mid can feel her heart beat so damn loudly inside her chest. All of this happened way too quickly. She knew going to Waloed would be complicated, but they all wanted to get Jill back, of course. What they couldn't plan was Odin's attack on the Enterprise. Well, they knew it was a possibility, but without Joshua turning into the Phoenix to protect all of them, they would all be dead. Hopefully, Clive found Jill; hopefully, they are safe.

Mid has stopped the Enterprise to take a moment to breath. And hopefully, it will be enough for Clive and Jill to join them. Maybe she should have stayed on the ship. She worries about Joshua, too, and not just because of these growing feelings she's trying very hard to ignore. Odin really... sent him away. And hopefully, he really just sent him away. She doesn't want him to be injured or worst because he chose to protect the Enterprise...

She has decided to walk around, because she needs a moment on her own to just think and try to catch her breath. But she can feel her heart starting to beat way too loudly inside her chest once more when she sees him: Barnabas Tharmr, right in front of her. She clears her throat. A lifetime ago, he was some kind of uncle to her. But it's far, far behind both of them now, right ? He keeps hurting people she cares for... He keeps hurting people, period.

"Don't... Don't come near me." Maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut, but if she could buy Clive and Jill some time, to come back to them, she would do it without hesitation.

Semi-plotted starter | @myrkt

[valiisthea]

@myrkt

Sleipnir is mid-attack when he feels the searing hot impact of pain blossom from the center of his chest. Immediately, the strength leaves his knees and they buckle, causing him to stagger haphazardly over his own feet in a desperate attempt to keep his balance.

All air empties from his lungs, and it is intervention of the divine, he surmises, that keeps him from falling prey to enemy blades.

Barnabas is hurt. A notion so utterly impossible to believe - and yet the pain of his King's wounds so clearly cuts through his own flesh.

He does the only thing he knows to do, the only thing that makes sense: he runs. He bears the pain and he runs as fast as he can push this mortal body to get to Barnabas' side.

Whosoever or whatsoever that dared laid hand or claw upon his liege shall meet the slowest and most painful of deaths -

And Sleipnir will not be satisfied until he's covered head to toe in the bastard's filthy blood, in the service and protection of his beloved King.

"My liege," he gasps, feeling the thrum of power buzzing through his body, looking madly for escape. He stands defensively in front of Barnabas with blade drawn at the ready. "Do not soil your hands with this filth. Allow me."

[lacamisablanca]

Diverse bileter frå køyreturen sørover frå Peniche langs kysten. Var til slutt ute på det vestlegaste punktet på det europeiske kontinentet, diverre var det litt for myrkt for nokre skikkelege bileter.

[tripleflames]

🍷🖼

MY EXPERIENCE IN THE ROLEPLAYING COMMUNITY / ACCEPTING.

wine glass. a character i want to write but never made a blog for

bella lestrange. or i guess you can say there was a point where i really wanted to write her bc i thought her ending was bs ( bc real talk, no matter how much i loved molly, there's no way she could have won that duel lbr like. she was voldie's right hand woman and said to be one of the best and most competent and deadly duelists whereas molly was essentially a stay at home mom whose strength lay in cooking and cleaning spells...... there's nothing wrong with that of course but there was a clear power imbalance there ) and because i really missed writing a villain. obviously at this point, that franchise and fandom has been soured by the actions of dear ol' joanne so this blog is never actually going to get made, but. there you have it haha.

mona lisa. my favorite types of characters

the character type i always seem to drift to is the character that went through a lot of abuse and bullshit in their lives and yet still managed to retain their kindness and empathy not because of that abuse but despite the abuse. either those or the types of villain characters that really just want to watch the world burn dbshjbgdh.

[secondflame-archive]

plotted starter ft. @myrkt

Clive steps over the rubble and shattered pieces of ice scattered around the battlefield. The remnants of a clash between Shiva and Titan. Both of them on a side of a pointless political conflict Clive has long since stopped caring about. World politics are none of his concern anymore.

It was the concentrated tangle of their aether had drawn Clive here. The fight itself a somewhat interesting spectacle to watch for a time, but in the end his hunger had won out and caused him to step in, his own Eikon's powers bristling and coiling scorchingly hot in anticipation of the amount of aether he'd be able to absorb when his opponent fell.

Ifrit, ever the constant presence in the back of his mind roared and hissed, causing him to throw himself at the biggest threat, which in this case had been Titan. It had been a fierce fight, one he would feel the repercussions of for days at least.

But now Titan's Dominant lies broken at the bottom of a massive ravine created by the clash between him and Shiva, the life quickly draining from him after Ifrit caught him off guard and forced him down. Quickly now, he thinks, otherwise the other Dominant would die before Clive has a chance to take his powers, to gorge his magic.

Still semi-primed from the fight, Clive shoves his sword back into its holster, the pace of his feet quickening as he feels Titan's essence flicker. He doesn't stop when he finds him, grabs him by the throat and forces him to sit up against a wall. Clive's teeth bare in a snarl as he reaches for the other's aether and pulls, dragging it out of this other mortal's body.

In turn it slams into him full force, causing him to gasp as the last bit of life drains from Hugo Kupka's body, but Titan's might isn't lost. He'd not make the same mistake twice. He'd failed to take in the Phoenix' power when he had the chance, but this time he is ready. He still doesn't expect the excruciating pain with which the aether forces itself into his form. His body convulses, but soon enough the pain is replaced by relief, by exctasy when the constant hunger fades to something bearable for the first time in over a decade.

He casts the corpse aside and straightens himself up, his eyes glowing in an eikonic gold as he tilts his head towards the sky, the priming fades. His eyes flutter shut as he relishes the feeling of a new Eikon's might tangling with Ifrit's own.

It's a pity Shiva is nowhere to be found, her presence faded to a point where he cannot pinpoint it anymore. But then again Shiva in comparison to Titan had barely been a ripple in the threads of aether around these parts. Her powers not yet fully realized, as if she for some unfathomable reason is holding herself back from her true potential.

No matter how much it irritates him he'll have to wait for her to unleash her full potential first before going after her. Exactly how he knows this he isn't certain, but whatever it is that compels him to seek out other Dominants also tells him when their powers are greatest, when their might would satiate him longest.

But Shiva's aether isn't the one that captures his attention now, instead it is the encroaching darkness of another. Looming and powerful beyond anything he has felt before. Clive licks his lips. He can basically taste Odin's might in the air around them, and even though he has never met the dark king before, he knows without doubt that the man he sees before him as he turns his head is Barnabas Tharmr, the origin of the dizzying presence that bears promise of even more aether than what Titan provided him with.

It has the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His body readies for another fight even though he gets the distinct feeling that he couldn't possibly win. Not yet anyway.

"Enjoyed yourself?" He asks across the distance, for there is no doubt the king has been watching.