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There is one primary reason I haven't been around. Syndicate spoilers. I never blacklist anything unless there is a person that I need to blacklist. SO, until I'm well versed in the new world of syndicate, you won't see me around here.
#mobile#update#and i just recovered from a bug but not so strong bug you feel me holy moly my stomach is hella strong
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I am The Vampire Lestat.
I’m immortal. More or less. The light of the sun, the sustained heat of an intense fire-these things might destroy me. But then again, they might not. My vampire nature reveals itself in extremely white and highly reflective skin that has to be powdered down for cameras of any kind. Right now I am what America calls a Rock Superstar. My first album has sold 4 million copies. I’m going to San Francisco for the first spot on a nationwide concert tour that will take my band from coast to coast. MTV, the rock music cable channel, has been playing my video clips night and day for two weeks.
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‘ Running in the streets, bumping into people, the target is out of breath. He knows his pursuer is here somewhere, watching him, ready to take away his life. Suddenly, he stops and looks up. There, on the rooftops, the PROWLER gazes down, smiling at him. It's already too late. ‘
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The weight of his body crushed his wounded arm against the wall. Blood soaked his sleeve, slicking it against his skin. Pressing two fingers against wound, he crinkled his nose in discomfort whilst beads of sweat crawled behind his ears. The assignment wasn’t hard to track amongst the mist and dipping boats near the harbor. What he didn’t anticipate was an upheaval from the man. Even the ugliest pigs still have a flare to strive.
Pressing a palm against the wall, he eased himself off. Time was of the essence, he needed to leave with haste. Standing like this left him vulnerable.
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aesthetic for @hiddenezio || AC II Ezio Auditore
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tweetiebxrdy
“How can you be so sure?”

‘ . . . If you fear the night, come closer. ‘
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viewtokill:
your character should be more than a tragic backstory. more than i lost my parents at a young age so now i rebel against the world. more than i have all these wicked skills without proper background or training.
sass is great, and so is silence — but when aren’t they using their biting wit? when do they speak up? do they use their ass-kicking skills for good? for evil? have they lost people along the way — actually, it’s inevitable, so what happened after the funeral? did your character attend? did they seek revenge, or search for answers at the bottom of a bottle?
don’t toss around tragedies if you’re not going to apply them to your characterization. alcoholics aren’t just loud and physically abusive; ptsd doesn’t mean you’ve boarded up the windows and refuse to leave your house. you won’t always continue to hate your parents after they’ve died. you will doubt your life decisions. being rich doesn’t make you sexy. being smart doesn’t make you socially awkward [ alternatively, it doesn’t make you the most attractive person in the room. ] even if you’re wicked smart, you’ll still get some things wrong.
do your research. if you put your character through traumatic events, not everyone walks away unscathed. but being haunted by the ghosts of your past doesn’t make you attractive either. it’s a nitty gritty, dirty fucking business. you get mad, your world loses color, you feel alone, and sometimes you ask yourself why you’re the one who lived.
treat your character like their own person. just because you wouldn’t say something to someone doesn’t mean they’ll keep their trap shut. it doesn’t mean they’ll want a big wedding or fast cars or apple pie made the way your mother taught you. maybe you’re pro-life and your character is pro-choice. maybe it’s vice versa. just because your character is a dick doesn’t mean it should be a reflection on yourself. but if they’re going to be a dick, and you want it to be believable, give them a reason to be a dick. a reason to hate the world, only slightly less than they hate the people living in it. maybe more. maybe it’s maybelline.
being smart and young and witty and attractive doesn’t mean your character will be respected. it doesn’t mean your character deserves to be respected. older, more experienced characters may trust your character less because they’re so damn young, no matter what you do or say to try to prove them wrong.
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im so ill still. cough hurts my jaw and throat. ugh. I’m not gonna be around at all. maybe, who knows but. my face aches and im not down with this.
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aesthetic for @ladyoftheblackwater || Isabeau D'Argyll
#ladyoftheblackwater#lady igraine#isabeau d'argyll#the order 1886#◤▆(myEDITS)#◤▆(OUT.)#;; thank you for liking !!#i hope you like it !
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#GOOD MORNING !!#i see peeps#please ship me back home#im still ill#the infection went to my ears#ALSO----i sort of want to watch eraser head BUT#dhjksahjd#◤▆(OUT.)
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aesthetic for @akwxks !! || Connor Kenway/Ratonhnhaké:ton (x)
#akwxks#connor kenway#ratonhnhaketon#ac iii#ac 3#ratonhnhaké:ton#◤▆(myEDITS)#◤▆(OUT.)#I HAD FUN THANK YOU FOR LIKING THIS !!#i hope you like it too !!#and thank you for your messages !!
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Favorite Concept Art
>> Assassin's Creed II Part 4|4 : Ezio Auditore da Firenze
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Reblog this if you're glad you followed me
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vindictivevirus
“I was dependent on none and related to none. The path of my departure was free, and there was none to lament my annihilation. My person was hideous and my stature gigantic. What did this mean? Who was I? What was I? Whence did I come? What was my destination? These questions continually recurred, but I was unable to solve them.” - mary shelley’s frankenstein IDENTITY WILL NOT SAVE YOU.

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♥
nonsexual acts of Intimacy || ♥

SEATED on the ground and settled against the wall with his arms as pillars at his sides, his legs are unceremoniously drawn up and apart. Between them, this woman, who had been stumbling drunk with anguish, soaked his shoulder with tears.
The assassin’s emotions were as mysterious as his foremother. The few who trained him through stolen techniques of a cutthroat’s doctrine had an idea but not a glimpse. At seventeen–the boy was recruited into the order, but even at seventeen, he had been a tomb of secrets with haunting eyes. Il Lupo was complex to those who tried to crack him like a code. He was odd to those who couldn’t quite decide what he was.
To be frank–he was callous, cynical and unresponsive.
Not incapable of compassion but rarely did he feel it. He didn’t know this woman and even if he did, he wouldn’t flood her with affection.
Instead, he stayed silent and still, allowing her to weep her sorrows away.
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