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ResponsibilityIt begins as a pressure, hot and tight behind your eyes. Not the usual Wrath - constant, familiar, comforting warmth - but a sudden roaring white hot surge that rises like vomit in the back of your throat, acid and choking, cutting off air as the fire floods your head and your heartbeat thunders in your ears, and you clench your fists and feel the power crackling through your veins and pull the lightning rocketing from the air, the earth, andResponsibility by GentlemanAnachronism
hold that rage, that hate, that venom boiling in your blood and say
not here. Not now. Not this.
Another breath, and the air tastes of blood, and the rage keeps rising, splinters of image slashing through your thoughts like shattered glass (break them, smash them, kill them, kill them KILL THEM) and you close your eyes and close your fists and feel the lightning arc around them, flicker up your arms, dance around your head, and you say
not this not this not this
because you don't use the sword <i>
Smart(CW: Self-harm)Smart by GentlemanAnachronism
"But you're smart, right?"
Smart enough to know how smart I'm not. Smart enough for that to smart (hah!), to sting, to burn like tears in an open wound with every leap that falls short, every answer almost-but-not-quite-good-enough. Smart enough to know this sounds like whining, and to accept that fact - to know I should be grateful for what I have even when I grit my teeth and fight back snarling immature rage at younger minds burning brighter than I ever could.
Not smart enough to realise that you never ever get the whole thing right in one. Not smart enough to realise pain's the poorest teacher when it comes to honest mistakes - that carving lines into your hands under the desk for missed verb endings, switched signs, equations not quite well remembered enough to pass the test, that ripped skin and peeled back scabs and fingernail-width gouges through your scalp ('I ran into a door, a wall, a tree') are never more than momentary relief.
At least t
Masks 1 (Protector)"You do have a plan, right?"Masks 1 (Protector) by GentlemanAnachronism
The laughter is more bitter than I intend. "Damned if I know."
They don't look happy.
Somehow, that doesn't surprise me.
I walk away. Don't look back.
Behind me, from the direction of the tent, I hear laughter - some joke about Osian wine, some half-remembered story from Before - and the Protector's anger flares up suddenly, white-hot in my chest.
How dare they?
How fucking stupid - how fucking naive do they have to be?
How do they not understand?
My people - our people - are going to die, and they're sitting there joking?
I close my eyes.
Bite my tongue.
My mouth starts to fill with blood, and I breathe out, letting the flood of pain quench the Protector's blade as the Soldier comes unbidden to the fore.
So they do not understand.
Or they may not remember.
Or they do not care.
Or they do not, at this moment, recall.
We will remind them.
I straighten my spine, pull back my shoulders, let my voice carry acr
Zen and the art of beating up masonryIt's not subtle. Probably another tell he's not like most of the others, if anyone other than him's counting - pretty fucking certain most of them have better ways of dealing with this than he does. More secret-y (and that's fucking eloquent, that right there. 'Secret-y'. Fuck). More mysterious and in keeping with the spirit of their ancient and noble order.Zen and the art of beating up masonry by GentlemanAnachronism
Though probably not a whole lot less bloody.
What's the fucking point, anyway?
They've already got two - three now - what the fuck do they need him for?
And everyone they've got can do pretty much anything that matters a damn sight better than he can.
Not as if anyone'd notice if he just up and left anyway.
After all, he's 'not helping people', right?
Helping people's what they're supposed to do.
So if he's not doing that
then what the fuck is the point of him being here?
Thud. Thud. Thud.
On the other side
Introductions - Yana"I am Ser Yana D’Senbi of the Enlightened path of the Illuminate Scions." they were still not used to saying that, even less accustomed to hearing it, and yet that was now their official title.Introductions - Yana by PhoenixShaman
Their fellow Illuminates still just called them Yana, titles within the knightly orders were rarely used unless to show respect for your seniors, (or at least that's how it seemed to Yana), and of course they insisted that the envoys did too, a title doesn’t change who you are, the one exception was Duty, a serengid from a rather formal hive, they had told him he didn’t have to use the title but he protested that it was only proper, so for him Yana acquiesced.
Though Yana had to admit having a title had its place, nothing like talking yourself up to a pompous animate shrub wearing the form of some slain foe, proving yourself to an aspect, or as had recently been their want, using it to enforce their position over some of the new envoys, the ones who came in with the swagger of
Impact 100 themes - 3. LightA warm flush of power ripples over skin, and the electric feeling of sparks as magic begins to knit flesh back together, the light comes rushing back in as vision returns, a riotous dance of colours and shapes almost too vivid to bear.Impact 100 themes - 3. Light by PhoenixShaman
I need a drink
There is a bottle, put aside for after, nestled in the book bag, alongside maps and historical texts.
First return the blade
Malik stands a way off, no doubt trying to regain some semblance of composure. The knife is returned with a muttered thanks and an inclined head, it is received in kind.
Sweet fruit wine, the tang of alcohol leaves a burning sensation at the back of the throat, but numbs the places that need to be numbed.
I needed that.
Senses suitably dulled, push back the hood to take in the damage; not too bad, a few papers strewn, and more daubings on the chalk board.
“Do you have to do that every time?” the one who calls herself doctor points to the swiftly drying tracks that
LineageAdmittedly this wasn't the way Yana had planned it, they had definitely intended to discuss it with him first, but it was done now, being witnessed by the Grandmaster of their order was probably the most official it was ever going to get.Lineage by PhoenixShaman
It was a move of practicality, someone needed to look after the damned thing, failing that it may keep it active if they died, and having leverage with that particular aspect was useful, being the last of their line and unlikely to produce any heirs any time soon, it seemed only sensible to name a successor from among those they trusted, just in case the worst should happen.
They had a lot in common with Malik, both Wrath mages, both artificers, both scrabbling to keep up with the skill level of their fellows, both with, lets face it, a somewhat unhealthily strong connection to their primal force. Yana looked up to Malik a lot, he had been a Scion far longer, and often his grasp of the... un-graspable left them far behind, like being back in the