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[gingersmiith]

"I'm not overly fond of sweet things. But thanks for the offer, princess," he tells her with a faint smile. "I'm glad you like it, though. You--" He stops for a moment, considers. "Do you want to go out and do something?"

A quiet wish-- I wish I were home, the same wish every year, for the past dozen-plus years. At least this year she has a slice of cake, a little fancy one from a little fancy bakery. The lack of candle is irrelevant-- and they hadn't had them, anyway, when she'd asked. Her eyes open, and she takes a tiny forkful of the cake, savoring the rich sweetness of it.

"Do you want some?" she asks. "It's very good."

[gingersmiith]

“if you don’t shut up, i’ll cut your throat” girlfriend and “that’s hot” boyfriend

[gingersmiith]

(Now watch me shine)

Better watch out Goin’ for the knockout And I won’t stop ‘til I’m on top now Not gonna give up   Until I get what’s mine

Elena of the Turks

{About | Rules}

Semiselective RP Blog Played by Puck Sideblog of PickpocketARC 18+ only.

[gingersmiith]

He'd loved Nyx, once.

(Lie, he's never stopped loving Nyx.)

But there's too much between them now, bitterness and spite and words shaped to cut like a blade, to rip and tear out any affection Nyx might still harbour for him after all these years. They'd tried to kill each other, last night, and maybe one of them would've succeeded had Fortis not interfered.

And now Tredd is the one on his back, Nyx standing over him victorious, or at least the last one on his feet, almost as though he means to crush Tredd's throat with his boot.

(No more warping for you, hero.)

Instead Nyx douses him with potions, and fuck knows how or why they work at all, but they do. He feels flesh and bone knit, internal injuries mend. He feels Nyx raise him, put a third potion to his lips, hold his hand as he heals.

What the fuck.

(Tredd doesn't cling to that hand like a lifeline. He doesn't. He's just squeezing because it hurts, it fucking hurts, not just his wounded body but the knowledge that their captain played him like a fucking kazoo and he should have died and may have got his boys killed and it's not them here with him, but Nyx, and he can't follow that though to its conclusion or else--)

"What're you doing?" he finally asks, too exhausted to sit up, too frightened to ask about Soni and Axis.

Why does Nyx feel so cold?

He's sorry about this, too, only because he knows how badly it's going to sting.

Nyx smashes a potion without further ado, thin plastic crushed in his hand and directly over Tredd's shattered leg, another over his ruined uniform chest.

Betrayal, in all its forms, and they're still out here wearing the damn uniform of a king that's dead, and a captain that would have killed them all, given the chance.

If the Glaive patch on his sleeve hadn't already been ripped off in his fight with Cap, Nyx would have torn it off already, tossed it to the ground. He should have left with Lib. They all should have.

A third potion, the cap ripped off of this one, and he moves a chunk of rock so he can slide a hand beneath Tredd's neck, lift his head slightly so he can drink it straight.

(Irony, thy name is a pharmacy being the only building left standing on this block. He's got a bagful of them, bandages, supplies, water and food all thrown into a thin neon orange backpack he'd found.)

"Easy, man. C'mon."

He wants to hate Tredd. Wants to break his neck, finish the job-- none of them would be here if it weren't for traitors in their midst. But at the same time, it's Tredd.

Nyx can't leave him to just... die.

The vials are all discarded, tossed aside, more trash in the rubble. He finds Tredd's hand with the less burnt one of his, and holds fast as the liquid does its work.

"I got you, you dumbass."

[gingersmiith]

And now I’m grounded from my computer.

i have been scolded for going out today

[gingersmiith]

i have been scolded for going out today

[gingersmiith]

Traitor Trio Promo

                                         What if this whole crusade’s                                    A charade                             And behind it all there’s a price to be paid                       For the blood               On which we dine         Justified in the name of the holy and the divine

Sonitus Bellum  ||  Axis Arra  ||  Tredd Furia

                    about/rules               about/rules           about/rules

Played by Puck

Independent

Semiselective

OC selective

Sideblogs of pickpocketarc

18+

[gingersmiith]

Send "be honest" followed by a question and my muse will be forced to answer with 100% honesty

[gingersmiith]

tfw the weapon you made nearly killed you

[gingersmiith]

Soni smiles like a serpent, bows like the star he once was. "Oracle," he says, putting an arm around his little brother's shoulders, and Tredd nearly cries.

He hadn't realised how much he missed that rich voice.

"Soni," Axis says quietly. "Is the effect tied to the boat, or the location?"

"To me," Soni answers, "and it has no effect on human eyes."

Axis nods, glances warily at the old man, then at the Oracle. "We should make for the shore. No telling when it'll wear off and I'd rather not be a roosting daggerquill when it does."

Tredd automatically reaches for the engine, only to be stopped by Soni's brother. Gil, he thinks the kid's name is?

"Engine'll be audible," says maybe-Gil, before glancing at the old man. "Signor?"

Tredd shrugs and turns away from whatever power play the old man and Axis are about to have, focuses all his attention on the Oracle. She looks cold, but not as though she's noticed she's cold. A glance at Axis, and his lover relinquishes his mercifully dry jacket, which Tredd promptly wraps around her shoulders. "You all right?" he asks her, voice low and warm.

He moves closer as well; he's as soaked as she is but his body-temperature is still much warmer than hers. "Dyin' takes a lot out of a body."

Her frozen fingers have trouble pulling off the seal; Lunafreya finally gets a fingernail under the tiny edge of it, ripping down the perforation and emptying the whole sour-frozen thing down her throat in one go.

Her face pulls an expression of deep distaste, but the worse the medicine's flavor, the faster it works-- or maybe that's just an old wives' tale her mother used to tell her children, to get them to behave.

Ravus, she thinks briefly, but he is not here either, and she doesn't even know if he's alive. She feels like she should know.

Mostly, she is just cold, and the wound in her side colder still, pulling closed, knitting shut. Her blood is dark, blackish-red, a gift from all the Scourge held in her body and bones, but at least, for the moment, the rest of it stays inside her.

"Thank you," she breathes, when the worst of the initial healing is over, and uses him as leverage to get to her feet.

There is no rest, not for the Oracle. Not even in the wake of near-death. She stands, and stumbles, and realizes only when she's mostly upright that she has no idea where they should even go.

The man with the shaved head wears a curious necklace of blue, color that flashes and catches her attention-- it takes a second before anything makes sense in her muddled head. "Harbinger," she greets him; it's only polite.

[gingersmiith]

You’re a cold piece of steel between my ribs And there’s no saving me Yeah And I can’t get up From this wet crimson bed that you made for me That you made for me ‘Cause love, like a knife in the back Cut me down and I’m bleeding

[gingersmiith]

Altissians: *put daemons in Totomostro* Daemons: *begin appearing in Altissia* Altissians:

[gingersmiith]

thequeerwithoutfear:

pick your battles. pick… pick fewer battles than that. put some battles back. that’s too many 

[gingersmiith]

they just dont fireball people to death like they used to anymore :/

[gingersmiith]

Yes, I’ve done the work analyzing this relationship’s problematic traits and I’ve come to the educated conclusion that I still want them to fuck

[gingersmiith]

ZELDAAAAAAA

[gingersmiith]

something something sinday?