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winchestheart  


ARTIST: Mirah;
ALBUM: Advisory Committee;
TRACK:Special Death;
PLAYED: 315 times.

hellstation:

If you knew that I could take the pain
Inflicted at the battle
With faithful arrows you
Might get back in the saddle
But it’s a special death you saved
For me

SCREAMS my dad brought me lATE BIRTHDAY GIFTS I got a millennium falcon shirt anD ALBW IM.

♟; σ f f Ɩ ι η є

So, Sheik....What's your mun's favorite thing to do~? And what's something embarrassing they sometimes do? Any crushes they have~? ;3
Anonymous

Ask the character about their roleplayer.   

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      “Her favourite thing to do? She enjoys music (both listening to it and playing it; she knows how to play several instruments), reading, and writing… She also converses with me on a regular basis, so perhaps that would count.” There was a pause while the Sheikah thought, brow furrowing; he honestly wasn’t certain how to answer this question. "––Though, honestly, I am fairly certain that her favourite thing to do is daydream. She spends the majority of her time doing that, really: she will come up with stories and characters, though not very many of those end up getting written…"

      “As for something embarrassing–– She is a rather clumsy person (unless she is doing martial arts, in which case she is quite graceful; I often wonder how that works), and so… She tends to trip over flat surfaces quite often.” Quiet laughter left the blond, and he shook his head.

      “Now… I do not know if she has a ‘crush’ at this point in time. She tends to keep out of things of that nature, honestly –– emotions of that sort confuse her… At any rate, she is never certain if she has a crush or not. At this point in time, she is currently attempting to figure such a thing out; she thinks that she might, but she does not know for certain.”

Who are these certain people? I'm at least glad they make a cutie like your mun happy ;33
Anonymous

Ask the character about their roleplayer.  

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      “Naturally, these people are those that she considers to be her friends –– two of them are those that she knows ‘IRL’, as she puts it. Cassa and Liz, she calls them. As for those that she speaks to over ‘Skype’ or over ‘text’, there are… several. Nana, Lela, Zel, Ray, Sarah, Lex, and Gabi… Those are, of course, the main ones that she speaks to on a regular basis (though, I am quite certain I am missing at least one or two).” 

{{ Hey, Sheik, what do you enjoy the most about your mun? }}

Ask the character about their roleplayer.  

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      “What do I like about her the most…? Perhaps it is the way she has–– remained strong thus far, or how selfless she can be (though, she considers herself to be selfish for some reason that I cannot fathom).” There came a pause, brow furrowing slightly. “She tends to do things for others instead of herself, thinking of them first–– But, what I like the best would most likely be her… sense of humour (though it is rather sarcastic), and how she tries to see the better side of things, even when it is difficult –– and how she always does her best to find something to look forward to. It is… an admirable thing, I believe.”

"Y're mun is a fuckin' cutie pie ah swear t'God." Jay throws his hands up in the air.

Ask the character about their roleplayer. 

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      “…Perhaps she is,” he admitted, shrugging slightly. “She is not… bad looking, and her personality (sometimes, at the very least) might be what some people would call cute. Personally, I think she might be rather cutethough some think she glares too much…” There came another shrug, the blond quite unsure of what he was supposed to say. “I think she simply looks a little sad, most of the time–– Unless,  of course, she is talking to a few people.”

[2014-04-15, 7:46:47 PM] sheek: ….. what are you doing

[2014-04-15, 7:46:58 PM] Aria: Torturing someone why do you ask

[2014-04-15, 7:47:06 PM] sheek: oh okay don’t make a mess

forgottendeadlytonfas:

And now they were getting somewhere. The grey girl, though his anger initially took her off-guard, made her smile. There it was, that spark that she had been looking for that told her there was still some fight in him. With, of course, a little more light shed onto the situation that she could read. ‘Bingo.’ So even when the wind in his sails started fading, she had enough to latch onto. The grey girl was good at bringing out the worst in people, whether by choice or no. And now she would use it to her advantage to make him crack. She was going to dig into wounds. She knew that. She knew her words were going to hurt. She knew that, as someone he trusted, her words would cut much further than some stranger’s. He would either grow sadder, or get angry. She also knew that if she didn’t do something, he was going to fade away.

So she ahd to save him. Even if that meant hurting him.

That’s why you plan, genius." She scoffed, and crossed her arms as well, but leaning on one leg, with her chin tilted up, it was haughty, cocky, and defiant. "A dream is just the starting point. Everyone has to plan out their futures. And you’re honestly telling me you don’t have the brain power to even try? I mean why stop at the ocean? Why not go to some other wonder? A canyon? A cliff? Hell, even just traveling the world to see what’s out there is better than staying cooped up. Hell, I just made that up off the top of my head, you seriously wanna tell me you couldn’t think of something better if you tried? A five year old could give me a better answer.

But tell me something, since I’m pretty curious: how did you learn to talk on your own?” She asked this like a legitimate curiosity. “I mean, I can’t even see your strings.” She circled him like a specimen, looking all around him as though to seek the strings in question. “You’re really life-like, even your heart. Man, you had me fooled for the longest time. Whoever made you did a hell of a job. Or… maybe that’s my fault, for being so gullible. Stupid me, thinking that someone could actually want to befriend a demon of their own free will." She rounded on him suddenly, eyes hard as they bore into him. As someone who lived in the shadows, he might not be affected, but to a normal person, they were like traps. They ensnared their victim, making them unable to look away from the horrors of the darkness. Her voice steadily rose as she flung accusations at him. "So who’s controlling you? Royal family? Dignitaries? Did they employ you to scout me out to find all my weaknesses? Should I expect the cavalry? Am I going to be taken in to be hanged in the town square? Or tortured first to find out how to fight the hearltess!? Tell me, pawn: where do I fit in this grand scheme, if you’re just a puppet to serve, and not a person who wanted to be my friend!?

      There was a long pause before the Sheikah said anything: the words stung, honestly, though perhaps it was just because of who had spoken them. He was no stranger when it came to cruel treatment, after all. Unkind words were something of a norm, as sad as that might seem to others. He had learned to deal with them –– how to shut them out, pretend that they weren’t directed at him, but at someone else, or that he was someone better, someone stronger, someone who couldn’t be touched by something as trivial as words (though, he of all people knew that words carried a certain weight, and it wasn’t always a good one).

      "…I––" He broke off, forcing himself to breathe and formulate a proper response. Instinctively, he fell back on his training, which was more like a second nature to him (or perhaps it was his first nature, his only nature –– that was how it was supposed to be, at any rate). Arms folded across his chest, fingers digging into his bicep with enough force to leave bruises. Pain was good; it helped him focus, clearing his thoughts. "It is… not like that…" Such words were empty, hollow, and he knew it, but he didn’t know what else to say. What was there to say? He was not supposed to even speak, at any rate, let alone have an opinion of his own. 

      "…I should have never said anything. I am–– sorry.” Such was his nature: when he was put into a situation like this one, he would apologize and withdraw into his mind, where it was safer (sometimes, at any rate). "It would have been better if–– I had not opened my mouth." His tone was stiff almost, his gaze downcast as he swallowed hard. He did not know what else to do; he had not been trained for this, as things of this nature were not supposed to happen. He was not meant to talk to people, to have his own thoughts and ideas; he was meant to follow orders and that was all. Relationships were not meant to be formed, as he was not supposed to let people in.

      A shuddering breath was released, his head still bowed, shoulders hunched slightly. The words hurt more than he had let on, and he needed a moment to recover, nails biting into his arm. "I am not supposed to… have friends," he mumbled, unsure of what he was even saying or why he was saying it. "I am not supposed to think for myself. Or feel. Or… even be human. I was… weak. That is why I… befriended you. I should not have, but I did.” Eyes were closed, a sigh escaping him. "I am meant to be the perfect puppet, a pawn, and that means no–– emotions. No relationships, no dreams. Nothing.”Hands fell to his sides, fingers curling into fists. "This has nothing to do with you.”

      Perhaps this wasn’t the wisest thing that he could have done, lashing out in this way, but he didn’t know what else to do. She had hurt him, and so his first instinct was to react in this manner: he either would withdraw, or he would let his temper grow. It wasn’t good, it wasn’t wise, but that such was his nature. Despite what one might think, Sheik was a highly emotional person, though he had been taught to shove those emotions aside.