apprenentice

[apprenentice]

“[B]ut back then, in those first days, I was so alone that every day was like eating my own heart.”

— Junot Diaz, from This Is How You Lose Her (Riverhead Press, 2012)

[apprenentice]

It has been a long time How long

doesn’t really matter

I have come back to drink your wine

I have come back to touch the trees in the graveyard

I have come back to use your shower

I have come back to stand in this field

I have come back to sing in the car

to drive the car

to drink your water under the tree

I have come back mostly to confuse you

I have come back to drink your wine some more

This is just to say Nazdrovye, bitches

I have come back to close the gate behind me

— Leah Horlick, from “Moldovan Hotel,” Moldovan Hotel

[apprenentice]

She is not refusing to die, / she is refusing to let you kill her. / She’s that kind of stubborn.

— Jasmine Mans, "Refusal,” Black Girl, Call Home (via lifeinpoetry)

[apprenentice]

the day i write nima actually angy or depressed is the day ill die bc..............shes just so overwhelmingly sad

[apprenentice]

solamor​:

* (  REIGN /  SENTENCE PROMPTS. @apprenentice​ sent:  ❛ We were supposed to dance under the stars. ❜ spams u with asks bc im evil @ apprenentice bc nima’s gr8 at dancing

Quicksharp is the speed in which he grabs her wrists, unmindful of the barely finished sentence and wait that it might have required.  There was poetry to be had in the tunes of what she uttered, but no one did ever specify stanzas had to be gentle.

Dance was prose in physical form, and they could continue this conversational ode in this nuanced set of movements.  ❝  Here we are.  ❞  A laugh, more playful than mocking in this stance, body close yet far, spirits high yet dwelling in wait and curious expectation.  He twirls her.  ❝  For someone so sharp, you sure do take your time.  ❞  Smug, though not biting.  ❝  Or is this a way of showing me you prefer it when I make the first move?  ❞  Dip!  ❝  Hm, well.  That suits this rhythm of mine just fine, I’m quite used to taking the lead after all.  ❞

a  flutter  of  laughter  pulls  it’s  way  from  her  throat  that  has  her  head  tipping  back  and  her  hair  spilling  past  her  shoulders,  covering  the  sudden  breath  of  surprise  she’d  taken  in  response  to  the  abrupt  pull,  soft  and  pleasant  and  matching  his  perfectly.  they  easily  follow  suit  to  the  rhythm  set  up  though  not  without  a  fumble  here  and  there,  unexpected  as  it  was  they  were  known  for  being  a  quick  learner.  

she  couldn’t  remember  the  last  time  she’d  danced  with  someone  (  it  felt  like  lifetimes  ago  ),  and  she  couldn’t  remember  the  last  time  it  felt  so  fun, couldn’t  remember  the  last  time  she  felt  so  alive  with  the  wind  on  her  face  and  her  skin  goosebumped,  a  vivacious  energy  taking  her  (  oh  she  felt  so  alive,  so  awake  ).  

it  was  as  startling  as  it  was  enjoyable,  and  therein  came  the  sinking  revelation  pooling  in  the  back  of  their  mind  that  they  couldn’t  remember  the  last  time  they’d  been  in  the  company  of  another,  a  subtle  jostle  of  their  head  made  to  shake  off  the  thoughts;  and  what  splendid  timing  it  was  that  he  offered  a  twirl,  to  which  she  follows  effortlessly,  the  motion  only  slightly  disrupted  by  her  snort  at  his  words.

❛   oh,  is  that  so  ?  and  here  i  thought  you  liked  this  pace,  maybe  i’ll  go  faster  next  time  —   ❜   words  cut  themselves  off  at  the  sudden  dip,  eyes  blinking  slowly,  almost  owlishly,  and  as  always  she  takes  the  time  to  study.  studying  his  features,  gaze  mapping  his  face  well  as  if  it  was  the  first  time  she’d  seen  him,  and  there  was  a  brief  pause  that  came  from  being  so  unused  to  such  proximity  (  far  too  accustomed  with  the  solitude  that  came  with  her  escapades  ),  and  with  a  quick  glance  to  the  side,  she  raised  a  hand  up  lightning  fast  and  gave  him  a  gentle  flick  on  the  forehead.

❛   alright  maestro,  how  about  i  take  the  lead  now,  hm  ?    ❜

[apprenentice]

solamor​:

* (  REIGN /  SENTENCE PROMPTS.  @apprenentice​ sent:  ❛ You have to admit, your fate does have a sense of humor. ❜  8)

Hm .  ❝  If we’re being morbid with said humor that is.  ❞  A sliver of cynicism slips into his warmer tone, though its of little consequence considering the good-naturedness that promptly dilutes it.  Dour moods have become more elusive as of late, perhaps as a promising sign that he had finally grown satisfied with his situation in life.

Unlikely.  Avarice and ambition weren’t known to be abated so easily.  The knowledge of the unrest did little to bother him.  ❝  But what about you, miss hawk?  You have quite the knack for placing judgements on others at the drop of a hat, at the briefest glance!  My, do those eyes of yours look into my very core?  Or do we happen to share such a funny fate that you knew with such assured confidence the comedy of my situation?  ❞  It’s a voice that stings with challenging play, and he’s more than aware that the path he’s decided to take in this conversation might result in bristling snaps.  It’s better that way.  Adds spice.  Banter was a dish better served steaming hot.

a  slow  grin  curls  on  their  lips,  almost  wry  and  yet  not  without  the  soft  twinkling  of  playfulness  that  showed  itself  in  the  creases  of  their  eyes,  and  then  their  gaze  lowers.  one  hand  settles  neatly  on  their  cheek,  soft  palm  pressed  against  the  flesh,  whilst  the  other  flexes  lightly,  digits  finding  idle  ways  to  serve  a  distraction  for  their  owner’s  eyes.  

it  was  curious  their  interactions,  dipped  in  mystery  and  intrigue,  curiosity  weighing  out  the  obvious  caution  that  lay  heavy  whenever  crossing  someone,  something,  new.  the  stars  weren’t  made  for  cradling,  burning  bright  and  hot  to  scald  any  who  wasn’t  careful,  and  nima  had  their  fair  share  of  shaky  travels.  not  everyone   —  every  world  was  made  for  gentility,  but  it  was  here  that  they  found  their  wariness  slow,  simmering  beneath  the  surface  yet  not  enough  to  cling  to  the  forefront  of  their  mind  as  it  often  did.  

he  served  good  company,  company  so  hard  to  come  by  nowadays  (  hardly  impossible,  but  not  many  spared  time  for  conversation  and  they  stuck  around  so  little  anyways  ),  it  made  their  initial  cursory  visits  a  more  frequent  arrangement.  it  never  hurt  to  open  one’s  field  view,  and  nima  was  ever  the  wonder  filled  explorer  they’d  been  back  home,  exploring  dusty  streets  at  dusk  with  a  bottle  of  carefully  procured  (  stolen  )  brew  —  just  a  little  something  to  shock  anyone  who  wanted  to  attempt  anything.

❛   now  where’s  the  fun  in  that  ?  i’d  have  no  benefit  if  i  told  you  so  freely.  still,  isn’t  it  intriguing  ?    ❜   there’s  teasing  in  their  words,  dark  gaze  flickering  upward  from  their  previous  place,  fixing  themselves  ‘pon  the  other  steadily  with  a  raise  of  their  eyebrows.  they  were  no  stranger  to  challenges,  and  weren’t  known  for  backing  down  either.

❛   does  it  scare  you  ?  would  it  be  such  a  burden  to  know  i  find  your  circumstances  interesting,  you  interesting.  fate  isn’t  so  cut  and  dry,  you  know,  there’s  a  reason  we  use  the  cards.  i  just  so  happen  to  be  horribly  well-versed  at  reading  people !   ❜   there’s  a  snap  of  their  fingers  and  therein  appears  a  deck  of  cards  neatly  set  out,  as  if  to  demonstrate.

❛  mm,  this  card  tells  me  you’re  wildly  competitive,  with  such  an  imaginative  mind  too.  am  i  right  ?   ❜   they  hold  up  a  card,  simple  illusory  trickery  really,  with  a  reflection  of  his  face,  their  amused  grin  having  yet  to  falter. 

[apprenentice]

u know this is a very weird note to come back on but cry by ashnikko is very nima esque minus like. the homicidal part & the swearing OBDHSCDSHBC

but also? stupid has nima vibes too, not the whole song but like. 

>i go red hot like a demon, i go ghost for no damn reason hot to touch, too much, heathen i’m in your psyche. you don’t know no one else like me.

very nima

[apprenentice]

pruin:

He enjoys the seeds of banter, the calm nature in which they speak and take him in.  It’s new, refreshing ( arrogance usually came in its stead, yet there’s none to be found.  nothing to be demolished this time ).  While his intentions might not be docile nor friendly, he’d never one to raise his nose at innocent advances of play and mindful interaction.

Regardless of that, if they’re considering his offer, it’s safe to assume they’re capable of interacting with the physical world, hm ?          He returns the squinting gaze, only to close his eyes in a humored chuckle.     ❝  To be disdainful to those alike me would make me foolish, dove.   ❞      A palm comes to cup his own cheek as he continues to watch them.     ❝  No lonely spirit would turn away company unless he were stubbornly holding onto his own misery for self-pity.  ❞

Although …  could the physical interact with them ?   A subtle motion of his head as he points to where some bottles rest.  ❝  Wine, tea, coffee.  ❞   A thoughtful trailing.     ❝  And other liquors of varying potency.  Do any of those entice you, moonlight ?  I won’t take it to heart if you refuse.  ❞

it takes moments of quiet studying before a low hum sounds at the back of their throat, lips curling into a careful smile and a gentle shuffle forward was made toward where the bottles rest. drinking wasn’t something they were opposed to, nor was it their forte, but it wouldn’t hurt to take a glance ( perhaps they’d learn something new ).

❛ oh ? do you travel often ? you talk about self - pity as if it’s something you’re familiar with. ❜, there’s interest in their words as tan digits run over glass bottles carefully to trace over lettering, their head turning to peer over at their company. it seemed as though all wanderers had their own losses, nima had shared many and asra... countless ( she could see it in his eyes ). but they supposed that’s why they all did what they did, roamed, discovered and learned to escape the cruel actuality they lived --- it was all running.

❛ --- i suppose you could consider it a curse we wanderers have, a way of feeling free at the cost of our own...  ❜, a pause. words trapped on their tongue that hung in their air only to be waved away by gentle laughter and a simple step away from the shelf. turning toward the other they clasped their hands together, a means to change the sullen turn their words had taken.

❛ you mentioned tea, can i ask what kind ? ❜

[apprenentice]

pruin:

Charged interest could spring at the briefest shift when routine bled into restless languor           ( another one of boredom’s most innocent dividends / another repercussion of reaching one’s fated and well deserved epilogue ).                  ❝  Hoping to make these blue hours less spacious, dove ?  ❞  

A soft lingering drawl, saccharine and amiable, mouth corners crisply curled into a look of hospitable warmth, lulling even as his chest dances with the avarice of vicious discovery.  

Eyes shift to the illusion.

❝  You must be parched, night traveler.  ❞  

@apprenentice·

slow amusement dazzled over partially concealed features, fingers grasping to pull down at the hood they wore and from it came their head raised high ( not enough to present haughtiness, but instead a show of confidence. of intrigue ). 

there was a faint hum in the air, a quiet breeze that passed through them, and it wasn’t difficult to tell they were in a world beyond their own ( they were the one who summoned themselves there, after all ) --- their figure was evidence enough. a vague illusion, a means of exploring a reality they’d stumbled across ( even for a single moment ); the world around them was stunning, and yet nothing fanned the flames of their curiosity more than the figure before them.

❛ always this friendly to lonely travelers ?❜, they tease, eyes squinting subtly as if scanning him ( friend or foe ? normally they had a good sense for these things but magic was rather tricky --- ).

❛ depends on what you’re offering. it’d be wrong of me to say i’m impartial, but it never hurts to be cautious, right ? ❜

[apprenentice]

i miss nima & nima misses faust  (  faust if ur out there--  )

[apprenentice]

Time  &  again  boys  are  raised  to  be  men impatient  they  start,  fearful  they  end ——-but  here  was  a  man  mourning  tomorrow he  drank  but  finally  drowned  in  his  sorrow

[apprenentice]

               ❛ YOU KNOW LONELINESS && YOUR EYES CONFESS ❜ 

                                       ind. asra of the arcana / written by eevee

                              ❛ YOU KNOW IT FAR TOO WELL ❜

template credit ! 

[apprenentice]

               ❛ YOU KNOW LONELINESS && YOUR EYES CONFESS ❜ 

                                       ind. asra of the arcana / written by eevee

                              ❛ YOU KNOW IT FAR TOO WELL ❜

template credit ! 

[apprenentice]

❝ — 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐦 𝐮𝐩 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞  :  𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧. ❞

[apprenentice]

HI THERE, BILLY MAYS HERE BRINGING YOU SUNSHINE REALNESS ™ AKA CHARLIE !

She can sing, she can dance, she can prance & she’ll even clap her hands !! truly performance worthy, she’s a passionate individual who more than anything wants to rehabilitate the souls of hell to stop her people from being killed. again— so what does a jolly gal do in desperate moments like this ?? SHE MAKES A HOTEL !!

She’s a dream come true & wickedly charming to boot, armed with passion & determination, not to mention she’s the princess of Hell ! Now doesn’t THAT sound enticing– if a gal like this can stay as happy-go-lucky while dealing with a chaotic starlet & malevolent radio demon then i’m sure you can too ! hop on by & we’ll greet you at Hell’s gates with a smile ! ( did i mention she’s the princess of Hell ? the antichrist in the flesh, can you believe it ?! )

LIKE / REBLOG, hit that subscribe button & you too could get your very own charlie for only 99 cents!! ( NOTE. this is a side-blog, i follow back from my main @newchatrooms. )

[apprenentice]

thats my yearly quota for nima bye yall

[apprenentice]

nimas in luv n breaks ur heart.png —— @promethianson​   /     accepting !

quiet evenings secluded within the privatest of areas amid the vast castle were shared more frequently than the sorcerer had come to realize, heavy tomes weighed heftily between dual paired hands & scattered scriptures filled to completion with scribbled eccentricities, from old hidden mages long since passed onward, were tossed around in disarray– evidence of where there’d once been interest, only to pass on to the next subject they’d both equally shared a profound curiosity & adoration for.

one might even say that admiration extended FAR beyond the reaches of dust slathered books encased with wondrous words of mystique, beguiling in nature & yet nima, for all their devout admiration of that captivatingly written – if not confusing – world, couldn’t help but every so often cast a slight eye at the man beside them. ( beguiling in nature much like the quill written ramblings were, beguiling in nature & eager to capture & behold the attention of a mage sly enough to let such feelings fall unknown. in the darker corners of her subconscious where they belonged )

it happened once, twice, thrice– a casual glance over, a mere study of their slowly warming friend, his gentleness & attention to their beloved magic & the sadness they shared at the hands of a family ( his very own ) & the fierceness he shared when they spoke of such things. truly, who could blame them for warming up to the prince? had nima known previous, they weren’t so sure even THEN they’d be able to freely blame theirself for softly, slowly, easily falling more enraptured the more time that was spent.

whether it was in the secret lessons they shared, eagerly taught sword fights & magical focusing alike, or the quiet times they’d slip into softness. slip into amusement, lips tilted as they shared brief dances once or twice with a burst of laughter slipping from one another, each to it’s own a shared delight. things that equally nima upheld their love for, each having a very specific thing in common ( a very specific person ), and yet there’d be nothing but the sheer roaring in their ears that’d convince them more of the person by their side; someone they’d delight in holding hands with, maybe fingers intertwined and laced at the sides, sly smiles in front of officials but soft– oh so gentle & sweet kisses delicately placed upon lips, upon skin. ( there were only so many excuses one could make about how much of a delight it was to spend time with one person until evidence found out, sure enough, it was more than just a hapless curiosity, fun or bitter interest )

these things that may encroach upon their mind and yet easily be pushed to the ground. crushed under fearful, tear stained, fists coupled with heaving breaths & the constant reminder, repetitiveness, that gave them the self-assurance required NECESSARY to continue with their day, with their life. for all the wonders they shared, the adamant roar to adventure forth & explore the world for all it held, instability in theirself was a weakness that they weren’t keen on letting to the surface.

you love, people leave, you love, people die, you love, people lose. rejection, failure, regret, bitterness that left a biting cut at the edge of her mind. at the reach of her memories. how many times would they refuse themself the right to love, the right to push themselves and hold their head high with the knowledge that refusal may be imminent but may not– be at calm with the answer given to them. how many times would they fight the never ending storm that wracked their fearfilled body, how many times would they reject & push back the love & care they felt for another– the wish to proclaim that they loved another, romantically or otherwise, the WANT & NEED to HOLD another and support them without the constant suffocation.

the suffocation, the cloying, dragging suffocation that dug at their lungs & brought tears to their eyes. a bitter pill to swallow & one they thought they hardly would ever bring themselves to do. so they wouldn’t, they’ll just sit and contemplate, think think think. push dire feelings to the surface & relinquish the little hold they had on their sensibilities, grab a hold of the reigns to feel in control again, control of who they are– their emotions made them feel safe. there was never any safety net in allowing your heart to fall into anothers hands so they wouldn’t.

they’d sit there in the quiet library with a solitary prince who burned brightly like the sun & shone embers within the palm of his hands, eager to warm her from the ground up. carefully watching, observing, quiet flirtatious quips slipping in here and there only to have offers smothered & quiet, friendly yet slowly distant, teasing slip into play.

they’d smudge down these emotions they knew full well weren’t just hapless feelings or the thrill they got from adventure, no they were in love but there would never be any proclamation as to such. not until they’d worn themselves thin, became so torn & eventually– oh god eventually, began to believe, truly believe, it was time to lay their hands & heart in the soul of another. another they could trust & bear their everything to.

but for right now they’d sit side to side & read out the old smudged scribbles from a dusty, weighty, tome they’d found hidden somewhere like a treasure in the sand. voice wavering & words stuttering every so often as turbulent thoughts ran through only to be smudged, control gained, & a throat being cleared coupled with a witty quip.

if they pretended it was nothing everything would be okay, their world would stay the same & shaky as they were? they were utterly content.