frostbittcn-blog

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Protip for all you writers out there; if you’re going to use <small>, <sub>, or <sup> to format your responses / posts, the very fucking least you could do is either edit your theme html so the font size isn’t two, or else just shoot me in the fucking head. (It’s nicer on the eyes.)

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Long short of it is that I currently have a few things on my plate right now, so I’m going to take a hopefully short hiatus from writing for the simple fact that I cannot string a coherent reply together right now. Aside from that, for the first time in a very long time, I’ve been able to sit down and actually enjoy playing a video game for more than ten minutes.

So if you’d like to get a hold of me, I’ll be on Skype, and or I’ll be playing Elder Scrolls Online. If you’d like to join me on either, let me know and I’ll give you contact info.

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   New Vincent Valentine strolling into the scene, and therefore I’d be greatly appreciative if those of you who are Final Fantasy blogs (or otherwise willing to interact with one) would like or reblog this so I can find some partners to thread with.

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Another update to share since I’ve the information available; if anything, I may be absent because I’m likely getting sick, and therefore spending a lot of my time either overly drowsy or sleeping. Secondly, even if that becomes untrue, I think that I’m going to spend the weekend almost entirely with my mother.

So with that said, I may throw out a response or two here or there depending upon what’s going on and my level of consciousness, but for the most part, I may be inactive until Monday.

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If you would like a starter, please like this. Length and subject will vary depending upon the machinations of my brain.

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@ofrhapsodos wanted a starter

   Red sparked memories now as it had nigh every day of the past since his teenage years. Genesis and his mannerisms were striking --and how could they not have been? The man was hardly any different than a lion strutting about in plain sight --grandiose enough to draw the eye and sear the brain. Or at least, he had been to the young man whose only experience with such eloquent words was English studies. (And even then, memory of a speech resounding in his own mind was certainly no competition for one being spoken aloud with passion.)

   And certainly, Sephiroth dearly missed the warmth that those memories used to bring, but the stain of his friend’s betrayal could only bring about the bitter cold. What he wouldn’t have given to have been able to express anything else in his already unnatural gaze.

         What he wouldn’t have given to expel the instinct to brandish Masamune at his...                   No. At Genesis.

   People who left never returned like this, in the first place, but in the second, on the nearly-nonexistent chance they did, they always held something against him --of this he had to remind himself. Of his own stupidity at thinking his ‘friends’ would prove to be an exception to the rule that everyone leaves, he had to remind himself. But most importantly, he hardly needed to recall the verbal lashing he’d received at the hands of someone he’d cared so much for.

   “I thought that I made myself callously clear that I had nothing left for you, Genesis,” Sephiroth seethed. “In fact, I believe that my exact wording was that you would rot.”

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@general-rhapsodos wanted a starter

   Blade upon blade; a sound that rung out as a warning to those who would dare attempt to cross the area, and a harmony to those who wielded their steel companions in the waltz of combat. Between each swordsman was more than enough natural talent to warrant them both the title of a masterful practitioner of their art, and it made it all the more enjoyable for one such master in particular --the ever-striking General Sephiroth.

   His opponent was among one of only two soldiers could could come close to holding their own against him, but more importantly, his opponent was his friend. Any blows that he landed, therefore, were carefully noted --for while Genesis could withstand, only to a degree could he really; as of yet, Sephiroth had never attempted to battle at full-strength.

   In particular, he’d held his attention partially on a small cut that had been left behind at least fifteen minutes prior to the current. On its own, it most assuredly was nothing remotely approaching a threat, and yet... It should’ve already healed.

   Settling on both feet a safe distance away, a singular leather-clad hand pointed out the otherwise insignificant wound that had been troubling him. “You aren’t healing properly; we will continue once it’s certain that you are all right.”

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           He is pure iron; black and hard and strong, yes,                     but  brittle,   the  way  iron  gets.   He'll                                 b r e a k   before  he  bends.

          ⚜                     𝙸𝚗𝚍. 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚉𝚎̀𝚛𝚘                     ⚜     ⚜             𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 ;; 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎 ;; 𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎-𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎                ⚜          ⚜                           𝙷𝚘𝚖𝚎   ;;   𝙰𝚜𝚔   ;;   𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜                            ⚜

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@flava-proelium called for an audience with the General

   Soft breaths served as the only sign of his presence; he could have hid, could have left. Could have done very nearly anything else to avoid the Turks, and yet... In stillness he stood what ground he had momentarily claimed; he cared little for what could come, whether it be bloodshed or spoken word. For the actions to come, he was ready. He always was.

   Still, his posture held no tension, as one might’ve expected --no, for all intensive purposes, Sephiroth was a man at ease, perhaps awaiting the arrival of an old friend.

   “I presume,” he began idly, sensing the arrival of at least one of them, “that you need something...?”

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If you would like a starter, please like this. Length and subject will vary depending upon the machinations of my brain.

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(HOW DID YOU SURVIVE?) they ask. how much did they have you bleed; how long did they make you suffer; how low did they force you down; how dark did they tint your dreams?      —until you had their blood glistening on your teeth;      —until your suffering paled in comparison to their own;      —until it was their throats pinned under your boot;      —until you learned to enjoy the sounds of screams.                                                           (I DIDN’T.) you reply.

to defeat monsters: become the greater monster | m.a.w (via dvoyd)

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Let me give you some advice, bastard: Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you.

(via childofcalamity)

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I lost a great innocence when I understood that I and my mind were not going to be on good terms for the rest of my life. I can’t tell you how tired I am of character-building experiences. But I treasure this part of me; whoever loves me loves me with this in it.

Kay Redfield Jamison, An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness (via fyp-psychology)

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Of all the things I am not very good at, living in the real world is perhaps the most outstanding.

Anne Tyler, The Accidental Tourist (via wordsnquotes)

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Be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everybody you meet.

James N. Mattis, General USMC (retired)

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                        ᶦ ʷᵃˢ ᵇᵘᶦᶫᵗ ᵗᵒ destroy                                ᶰᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶫᵒᵛᵉ                                            but oh god, i love you. 

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               all the kids cried out

                                                     ‘ please stop ! you’re scaring me ! ’

     i can’t help this ᴀᴡғᴜʟ energy

                                                goddamn right, you should be sᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ of me

                                    who is in ｃｏｎｔｒｏｌ ?