@gottgenug , starter from sitri to jeralt.

Sitri frowns as she stares at the dummy. So, swords are not her forte. Magic seemed to be the only thing that came naturally to her anyway. So with frustration, the tiny woman shoves the sword into the dummy before realizing she's not alone in the training room. --- Jeralt. The sword doesn't even pierce the dummy, falling to the door with a clatter. Better him than Rhea... she wouldn't tolerate Sitri training like this. When she's finally feeling good, she's going to relish in it.

But, she felt having an understanding of how to protect herself would be nice. However, she didn't think Jeralt would catch her so frustrated. " I can't get it. The sword is so heavy, but I feel as if I should learn some sort of weapon. Just in case. "

Despite her frustration, she does smile at him. It spread slowly... like she wanted to fight it but she couldn't. He was the only would who understood her. She was certain of that. His stories of the world outside of the monastery... kept her doing.

" ... Maybe you can show me something? "

@gottgenug || autism to autism communication. autism to autism conversation.

Gold's sleeves gently wrap themselves around the approaching Glaceon, pulling it into his lap as he listens to N's logic. His head tilts in the same direction as N's, almost as if he's a mirror image of the older individual. N's musings do have logic to them, and it's right--- Gold's not making N moving any slower.

Granted, they're both seated, but still.

Gold hums thoughtfully as he takes a moment to nuzzle Glaceon's soft fur, careful to not stain it with any gunky leakages from his sockets. When he's finished, he looks back up at N. "Tolerate myself? But... how?"

His face flickers, revealing his true skull-like visage for a split second. It's not for an extended period of time -- just long enough so that N gets the picture that this isn't just a matter of Gengar using Scary Face.

His sockets leak blood as he speaks, his little voice shaking. "Where do I even begin? I- I didn't want any of this." He hugs Glaceon closer, albeit remaining gentle. Eeveelutions are fragile little things, and he doesn't want to accidentally crush it.

"Hell, I'd probably be scared of me too."

“I know it hurts. It’s hard to breathe sometimes.” another one from sidon!

Urbosa was known to be free with her emotions, but that didn't mean she enjoyed crying. Especially when there were others to see her, and especially when those watching her weren't family. Of course the champions and their descendants were close, but even still, she felt a red hot flush of shame across her cheeks. She tried to regulate her breathing, but even then, she felt her shoulders rock back with the force of incoming tears, damn them. Gerudo fell in battle all the time. It was one of the facts of life; for every one that died in childbirth, another died on the battlefield. Of course they were mourned, but even that seldom called for tears. And yet, seeing poor Riju carried back in on a stretcher... The healers assured them that she'd be fine. Urbosa believed them, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she couldn't help but blame herself. And the poor little chieftain was so, so young... Goddess help them if that's what their tribe came to in the future. Riju was tactically a fantastic girl for her age, but that age was still twelve. Technically she was permitted to rule at age seven, but that was a holdover of ancient tradition, not something they were meant to rely on- She tried to stop her thoughts. They were only making it worse. She whetted her lips, head tilted to Sidon's side. "Thank you. I'm sorry you have to see me like this."

@gottgenug, x.

   KIRK HAS LIVED TOO LONG, he likes to say, only to be chided for it by spock. though, he’s unarguably lived a long time— whether it’s an appropriate amount or not, he’ll leave for someone else to decide. 

   so, when the crew members of this timeline come to him or spock for conversation, and maybe a bit of advice, james has to remind himself not to talk too much all at once. there are boundless stories, anecdotes, tales that sound too made up, but remain truthfull nevertheless. and pavel is young, younger perhaps than the counterpart james has spent a lifetime with. he doesn’t want to overwhelm him, or worse, look silly in front of him.

   he might be old, but age hasn’t turned him stupid. not any stupider than he already was in the first place, he thinks.

   ‘ a valuable view of the world we live in, mister chekov. ‘ nodding slowly, kirk gives him a jovial smile, still thinking about how to best put this. ‘ the universe we traverse, we wouldn’t exist without. at the same time, without exploration, we’d know nothing about the universe. ‘ and exploration has been his life’s work. james closes his eyes for a moment, dwelling on memories. ‘ but it’s the people that give it meaning. space is unforgiving, but full of life. it’s up to us to traverse it respectfully, to share in the care you’re speaking of. ‘

Pavel thinks the word family in a whisper, as if even daring to think it would invite fate to rip it all away from him. Two, almost three years on the Enterprise has made the word real where it only previously existed as flashes of memory for the past decade of his life. A longing that sometimes stung in his chest.

He might not ever admit that out loud, but Pavel can scarcely imagine, at this moment in time, exploring the dangerous unknown reaches of space without the crew of the Enterprise at his side.

As he stands on the receiving end of older Kirk's smile, he can't keep from wondering if he feels the same way about his own crew, the one he left behind in the other timeline. Running in tandem to that, he finds his thoughts centred on that Enterprise, on the differences between who he was there and who he is here, now.

Already, in the short time he has been here, Pavel has noticed many differences between this Kirk and the man he calls Captain—and, quietly, friend—that extend far beyond the obvious physical ones.

Those, he keeps to himself.

Instead, he says, "Not valuable—realistic, sir. This"—he emphasises this with a flourish of his hands, as if to say fate or the universe or any iteration of those things—"doesn't care what we do. But it does matter what we do. If we fight wars for planets or or we coexist peacefully, like you say, it is all up to us. The Federation, it is not perfect, but I believe in it. It has the right ideas, if not always the right execution."

continued from here | @gottgenug​​

     When Linhardt says that he most certainly IS bothering him, Dimitri almost seems to DEFLATE-- not that he was very BUBBLY to start with. He opens his mouth to APOLOGIZE, but then the scholar continues. The prince BLINKS across at him blearily, brow furrowing. DOES HE or DOES HE NOT want him here??? Dimitri strides further into the room, hands clasping together behind his back as he approaches the green-haired boy.

          “...AH... I could not sleep, so I came here.” He leaves it hanging there like that for a moment, veering off to one of the shelves which is CHOCK-FULL of books. His TIRED gaze sweeps over the bindings as he searches for SOMETHING that may put his weary mind at ease. UNFORTUNATELY, he is all too aware of Linhardt’s presence. The prince turns on his heel to regard them again, frowning.

          “Perhaps you can help me, if you are in here often-- do you know where I might find a book with information regarding the GREAT PLAGUE OF 1160? Something about it is EATING AWAY AT ME, so I feel that I should read up on it.” He shifts his weight onto his left foot, the right digging at the floor beneath him.

          “I have not seen you around the monastery at night too often... is this a RARE occasion for you?”

@gottgenug // linhardt & ferdie -- moved from legacy

"Of course. Please tell me if anything hurts." Ferdinand was quick to help Linhardt out of their vest and undershirt, careful not to tug too fast or too roughly as the wound was still open and angry-looking. After a quick pause to run some clean water over his hands -- hot water and soap would have been better, but needs must -- he began working.

Ferdinand had a singular focus as he cleaned, dressed, and wrapped up the wound as best he could. He was no Manuela or Marianne, but as a front-line fighter, Ferdinand had suffered enough wounds of his own to know the basics of treating them. The more he could take care of on his own, the less he needed to take the attention of healers away from those who truly needed assistance. Actually... dressing a wound on someone else's shoulder was far easier than doing it on himself. Thank the goddess for small favors, no?

Once he was satisfied with his work, he gathered up the bandages, cotton, and other used materials and set them aside to be binned once everyone else around camp stopped running around and he wouldn't just be in the way.

"Well... I think that will get you through the night. It should probably be changed in the morning though, before we depart back to Garreg Mach. How do you feel?" Then he recalled his previous musings about the process of actually getting back to the monastery. "Tomorrow, if you would like to ride with me on my horse, I think that would be all right. You should take care not to aggravate that injury."

did you ever love me? (from n! :3)

ask him things (open)

"Of course not, you pathetic fool! Honestly. Your own birth parents didn't even love you."

gottgenug asked : ❝ i should bash your face in after all you’ve done. ❞ from cicero !!

S.kyrim sentence starters. / @gottgenug -- accepting

        𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. He has been… vocal recently. Of his opinions and the image he held of how the Dark Brotherhood operated without an understanding of why the sanctuary operated this way. Perhaps he had spent too long with the Night Mother to get a grasp on reality.

        For a coven full of murderers, his threat falls on deaf ears. Astrid would wish worse on him, yet she has the poise and patience to not make it known. Cicero might have an inkling that she desires to see him dead, but for now, she’ll leave it to the back of her mind. All considered, Astrid was being generous for what she was capable of.

        Her brows raised as she spoke each word thoroughly, slowly in a way to make it engraved on his mind as she leaned over to face him face-to-face. ❝ Need I remind you of our single rule, Cicero? Or, rather, what the Dark Brotherhood tenets spoke of? I would think you of all people would remember the tenet of not harming a member of your family. ❞ Whatever it stated exactly, Astrid forgot, but that hardly mattered when those tenets served no purpose here. For a time, the Dark Brotherhood abided by these rules, but it ultimately led to their undoing. Cicero had no idea what Astrid had to sacrifice to gain her position in the Dark Brotherhood.

Yuletide starter | @gottgenug

"Come on, Frederick. We're going to be late for the children. Lissa had already gone on ahead to the slums."

       @gottgenug​  ,       liked for resurrected ! sitri      /    for jeralt.

         everything had happened so quickly. everything from being found by jeralt to somehow being back within monastery halls.   ---   & she’s nervous. she can’t believe that alferic did something so vile... just to bring her back from the dead. & almost at the cost of four of his own students

        so now, she stands at her own grave. she had been dead. gone & buried for years. decades even. her own child is grown in front of her eyes. what’s she supposed to do now? she isn’t even sure if she still belongs.

        but then she hears someone behind her. before sitri can even turn around, she knows it’s jeralt. she wants to smile. she really really does. especially because it’s him. because it’s been so long.

        but there is one thing she’ll always know: she does not have to mince words to him.

        “ i am not quite sure what i’m going to do. ”  is finally all she can say. “ is it wrong for me to be here now, jeralt? ”

Gold assigns N @gottgenug as... Clefairy!

"I didn't wanna go with... any obvious choices." He wrings his sleeves. "Clefairy is known to be shy... painfully so, 'specially around humans. A lot of people think they're rare 'cuz of that. But they like to be with their fellow Clefairy... like how you like to be with other Pokémon. Sometimes they attract bad people who want them for the wrong reason, so it's important to protect them."

"Me? I think they're friend-shaped."

@gottgenug from x

Urbosa had only traveled with the young Zora for a few days, but already she was accustomed to his incurable optimism and ever-present smile. She was so used to it that seeing him frown struck her as if she had accidentally hit him during training.

His attitude had been jarring at first. She'd always been taught to imagine the worst case scenario, then plan for it. Though things seldom ended as bad as she prepared for, it was a motto that served her well. Whether she'd realized it or not, she'd bristled a bit more than was kind to him.

Seeing the wind taken from his sails was enough to set her straight, though. It was neither his decision nor a fault that he believed the best would happen. Even looking over the edge of one of Lanayru's many half-open caves, seeing a full horde of bokoblins surrounding the weapon cache they'd stolen, their initial plan wasn't all that bad... It just needed some tweaks.

"Thank you, Prince Sidon. I'm sorry, the way we train... We're not taught to expect the best outcome. It will probably work, but..."

She bit her lip, feeling the energy of one of Lanayru's legendary storms building up in her veins. Contrary to popular belief, her line did not create electricity from nothing - they channeled it from the air. In certain situations, this became very troublesome indeed, especially when faced with a Zora comrade.

"You'll need to come from the flanks. I don't want you caught in the crossfire."

dialogue starter  :  @gottgenug  ♡  jeralt

“  lying  in  the  grass  can  be  quite  therapeutic,  actually.  why  not  join  me ?  you  seem  to  have  a  lot  on  your  mind  lately.  ”

@gottgenug​  said:   ❛ won’t you let me lean against your shoulder just the smallest bit? ❜ from linny :3

f.s. fitzgerald prompts  /  accepting

     “Fine,  Linhardt,  but only for a moment.  Please do not fall asleep here if you can help it.”  He feels the weight of Linhardt’s head at his collar.  The plush wool of his favorite cologne-laced jacket bunches and ripples beneath the press of Linhardt’s cheek in a way that would irritate Ferdinand—he will have to steam that wrinkle out later—were it not already well past midnight,  and his inhibitions waned along with the moon.  Nor were it any less endearing. 

     He dips his quill in its well and finds the ink long dry.  The parchment splayed out before him is a brutal stack,  scrawled with immaculate cursive that has only recently shown a newfound tremble as his fingers at last grow tired.   His eyes,  too,  feel the weight;  the candles have all dimmed to dangerous lull.  Still,  as ever,  he endures. 

     “Truthfully...  I can finish these letters on my own if you are tired.  I do not mind.”  

@gottgenug​ / jeralt liked for a starter. ♥

      ❛  you know, if you wanted to see how i fight, you only had to ask.  ❜  she tucks her knees up to her chest, as they wait for this oh, so infallible summoner to decide when to leave.  tsu’s yet to figure out why ink works on...  all that.  ❛  i mean, instead of volunteering to join this fight.  ❜  

@gottgenug [x]

 ANTOINE FROWNS, SOMETHING THAT seems to come naturally these days, whenever riley opens her mouth. their usual flowery language has left their vocabulary around her entirely, ever since she tricked them into giving her their name— their frown deepens at that thought, actually, expression broody.

 and they can’t even do anything about the way she insults their book, either. they can only huff, their hands quite literally tied.

 which will, however, not stop them from biting back. ‘ worthy by the standards of whom? mortals? ‘ the disregard in their voice is enough to answer the rhetorical question, even if it weren’t for the glare antoine sends her way. still, they continue, reaching out to flip a part of blonde hair over their shoulder, defiant in a way that can only be described as childish. ‘ i don’t think so. my own approval is the only one i need. it’s a good story. ‘

  “Then write in crayon and construction paper, anoint it in child-safe sparkly glue, and don’t bother anyone else about it. Fairy tales are made for children, to show them what to do and not do. They’re not a piece of toast to smear your vanity onto.”  Nice to not be forced to choose her words so carefully – as it happened, knowing the true name of a fairy wasn’t as cool as she might’ve thought, but it was still pretty good. Now, if she were in that position, Riley would’ve then beat feet in the hopes that the Holder of the Name might forget it, but Antoine…

  Well, built different. That was a kind way to say it. Arms crossed before the rush copy, the hellspawn felt no fear at the raised hackles, only annoyance. “What is the intent, then, if not to teach? I could get you a laptop. Then you can post all of your wonderful thoughts in that fascinating little head of yours online for the whole world to appreciate, not just the poor publishing company you’re sinking into the red with your projects.”