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2 mos ago
Current youtu.be/o_l4Ab5FRwM currently.
2 mos ago
I have classes in the morning, but I promise to get back to everyone as soon as I can. :) Have a good night everyone!
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2 mos ago
When you are dying for just five minutes of quiet, but no such luck. Oh well. Off to dinner. Posts when I get back, I promise.
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Bio

Alright then, so a bit about me I suppose? 25 year old female here, though I don't mind playing both genders in my roleplays. If I had to choose one though I would say I prefer female. I can write anywhere from two to twelve paragraphs, but anything smaller than two paragraphs and I have a difficulty keeping interest. Unless they are mainly dialogue of course. I love anything historical-fiction, so you don't even have to ask, its a definite yes. Just send me your plot idea and I'm game.

As for writing and genre preferences, I don't really care for modern settings. After all, the point of writing is to escape reality, right? That being said, I don't mind anything sci-fi, fiction, fantasy...you get the idea. I have a million and one fandoms I'm willing to do and I don't mind playing cannon, so feel free to ask. Eventually I will get around to posting a list here, but for now this will have to do. Now then, if I've sparked your interest then send me a message, if not that's okay too, after all it takes all kinds to make the world go round right?

Most Recent Posts

Thyra grinned and shook her head. "I would rather not spend the first night of freedom stitching wounds." she teased, violet eyes flickering in his direction. She was quiet a while, her mind pondering over what the following evening might bring. "I may just hold you to that offer." she commented at last with a shrug. "There is nothing for me in Skyrim. And at least in Hammerfell I would be free from the Thalmor." She was almost proud of herself for recalling that tidbit of information from the hours of tedious studies she spent with Farengar, pouring over worn leather volumes and dusty moth-eaten tomes. Then, she had been far more interested in the lores and tales of the other provinces; heroes and villians alike. Now though, with the threat of the Thalmor and the growing tension between Skyrim and Cyrodiil, she was far more interested in the politics. Hammerfell had been free of influence from the Aldmeri Dominion since 4E 180. And, it was not a province of the Empire. Which to her meant that she would be able to start a new life in relative peace. If they made it that far, that is.

"How well do you know Cyrodiil?" she asked him, her mind still working on formulating a plan, a habit she had picked up from listening in on her uncle's discussions with his advisers. Balgruuf had always been a cautious man, never one to race into a situation blindly as her father often did. That much, at least, she respected. He would ponder and analyze until her father was nearly mad, but once he made a decision he knew every possible outcome and there was little room for error. She hoped to follow his example now.

Her first thought had been that they would need horses for the journey, but she had eventually concluded that this was a poor idea. With no coin, they would likely have to steal horses to acquire them. A redguard and a nord traveling on stolen horses would stand out like a sore thumb. With the same reasoning, taking a boat was out of the question. The empire would likely have guards checking every port and every stable from here to Daggerfall. They would likely be making this voyage on foot. Avoiding the main roads would likely be their best bet, less chance to stumble upon any guards who might be out patrolling, which meant they would need supplies; weapons, some form of armor, and at least a minimal amount of food. Smaller towns and villages seemed to be the best option in her mind, less chance for there to be guards posted, but more chance to run into trouble with bandits and other riffraff with far more nefarious intentions.

It was a risk all the way around, but one she was willing to take, and she voiced her thoughts to him at last so that he could follow her train of thought. "What do you think?" she asked curiously, when she had finished her rambling, violet eyes gauging his expression carefully in anticipation of his response.
She smiled and shook her head, despite the engulfing darkness that likely prevented him from seeing the gesture. "I can't sleep. Too much excitement, I suppose." she teased, a half-hearted smile lighting her face. She was quiet a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before she spoke again. "How far is it to Hammerfell?" she asked curiously, though it was only one of the many thoughts swirling through her mind as she wrapped her arms around her legs, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her head against them.

In truth, she was torn. The prospect of seeing someplace new, the adventures she would have along the way, thrilled her. But a piece of her longed to go home. Back to the cold winds and snowy mountains and great halls filled with drinking, dancing, music and food. She knew better though. Her uncle had made it a point to publicly denounce her; she wouldn't even make it to the gates of Whiterun. And anyone who she had once thought of as a friend wouldn't dare risk the jarl's anger by so much as speaking to her, nevertheless helping her.

No, she decided to herself, any life she had once had in the province of Skyrim had died with that guard in the stables. She regretted it for sure, but not for the same reasons; didn't much matter now though. She was about to speak, but the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall; there was no jingle of keys, which meant it likely wasn't a guard. Light slowly began to fill the hallway as the feet shuffled ever so slowly closer to where their cells sat; must be a servant, replacing the burned down torches. Her assumption was confirmed as the grizzled old man pulled down one of the torches a short distance from them, the flame already having extinguished itself, and replaced it with a fresh one that filled the cell with light.

Blinking for a moment she grimaced at the assault on her eyes before turning to Alim, able now to make out his features. "Shame he doesn't carry keys. Would have made our plan a lot easier." she whispered quietly when the old man was far enough out of earshot, a grin crossing her face as she tilted her head to look at him. She crossed her legs, running her fingers through her braid to loosen the strands and let them fall where they willed. "Alim...the first thing I want to do when we get out of here is find somewhere quiet for a hot meal, a warm bed, and a bath." she confided, fearing the grim she had accumulated from the prison alone would be difficult to rid herself of.
Thyra pouted playfully and then laughed, shaking her head with a sigh. She marveled at the turn of events, a grin creeping onto her ivory face. The tall foreign thief with daring eyes and a charming grin seemed to be the only friend she had left in all the provinces. Her only ally. The thought was both frightening and comforting, and she sent up a silent prayer to Talos that nothing would go awry. With a shrug, she reached for her own bowl and passed it to him, certain that she could do without whatever atrocities the concoction would bestow on her digestive system.

Getting up, she moved over to the small cup of water on the table, sipping at it before using the remainder to wash the dirt and soot of the travels from her face. Her thin fingers traced over the deep scars that marred her right cheek before swiping at the stray drops of water. The cold water against her skin was a relief, but she doubted she would be saying the same about the makeshift bed, which seemed to be a simple pile of straw with a ragged wool blanket that had seen better days tossed atop it. "You would think with all the money they steal from the people, they could afford something a little better." she grumbled, tossing the blanket aside. Blasted thing smelled to Sovngarde, and she could only imagine what the pathetic piece of material had been through.

She tried to settle herself into some form of sleep, or at the least rest but at last she sat up with an exasperated sigh. Now fully irritated with herself and still sore and aching, she stood to pace the close quarters of the cell. Her small feet collided with the thick stone below to send soft echoes throughout the space, her fingers lacing together to rest behind her head. At the least, her movements were easing some of the stiffness, but it did little to cure her restlessness. Her curiosity got the best of her and she cast a glance to her newfound companion, wondering if perhaps sleep had eluded him as well. The darkness of the night was so completely consuming her eyes couldn't tell. Stepping over to the bars, she smiled slightly. "Alim...are you sleeping?" she whispered softly, not wanting to wake him if he had managed some form of slumber in this ungodly place.
Leaving to take my sister to grab food in a few. Shouldn't be gone too awful long with any luck. I will post when I get back. :)
Thyra hid a grin at his response to the guard, stifling a laugh as the guard moved down the to the farther cells. She wrinkled her nose as she dipped the wooden spoon into the watered soup and drew it closer, smelling it before shaking her head. "I don't even think the rats would touch this." she grumbled, pushing the bowl aside and opting for the stale half loaf of bread. It seemed to be the safer option. She picked at it rather disinterestedly, but his comment caught her attention. The thought of travel had always appeared to her, but it seemed to be a futile dream now. But his next comments caught her attention, and she set the loaf of bread aside, moving closer to him so that they couldn't be overheard.

"Do you think you could without being noticed? With a distraction of course." she questioned quietly, a mischievous glint creeping into her own violet eyes. "We aren't likely to be able to walk through the front doors unnoticed, regardless of how lax the guards have become. We need a plan..." she mumbled, glancing around the small cell. She let out a huff of frustration, leaning back against the iron bars. They didn't have much to work with, and the chances of them being able to take on Imperial guards with no weapons and no armor were extremely slim. She toyed with her blonde braid, twirling it around her thin pale fingers as her mind worked over their dilemma.

"I know the city has an extensive sewer system, but I don't know if it reaches us. And even if it does, there's a good chance we would just end up wandering in circles...if the guards don't catch us before we even reach it." she kept her voice hushed, not wanting to be overheard and risk exposing themselves before they even had a chance to begin their attempt. The odds likely weren't in their favor, but considering their sentence, she didn't see where it could hurt to try. Still, if there were going to get very far, they needed to work together. She tilted her head back, glancing over to Alim. "What do you think? Shall we tempt fate?" she asked with a grin.
Thyra gave him a curious look as he spoke, her violet eyes moving from her braid to his own dark eyes. "Skaven?" she questioned lightly, her knowledge of Hammerfell cities sorely lacking. Her education as a child had been rather thorough regarding the history of the Nords, the empire of Cyrodiil, and of course the history of the elves. She remembered sitting in Farengar's study, pouring over books as he cited the various battles and wars fought between the races, though it was always here that her mind would begin to wander. She had heard the tales of Skyrim and of the dragons and the elves all her life. They were a staple to her people and stories were told around hearths and fires, bards sang of heroes and villains alike. She was far more curious about the distant places that few of her people had ever seen; Hammerfell, Valenwood,Elsweyr, the Summerset Isles. Dessert sands and warm tropical forests, woodlands that stretched and towered and consumed the horizon.

Shaking the thoughts from her mind she smiled, catching the apple as he rolled it to her. "Thank you." he was a curiosity for sure, not at all like the stiff and hardened men of the north, who barely spoke and when they did it was more of a bark, hard as steel and rough on the ears. She chuckled at his comment regarding their executions. "I'm not entirely sure that's comforting. I think it's safe to say Sovngarde would have better accommodations." she joked back, sighing as she stretched out her sore muscles and grimaced. "What is it like? Hammerfell, I mean." Thyra questioned with interest, resting her head back against the cool damp stone as she bit into the crisp apple. It was sweet and delicious, and she closed her eyes momentarily to savor the taste. Content to have something in her belly at last, she relaxed back once again, content to listen to his tales for the next few passing moments.

His prediction about the guard had proved true, and just as she finished the apple there came the slow, shuffling footsteps that echoed through the musty hall, accompanied by the jingle of old iron keys. Glancing around the cell, she spotted a crack in the stone and decided it would have to do, stashing the remnants of the apple core into it to hide the evidence. Likely, it would be gone by morning and at least one of the rodents who inhabited this prison would be fat and happy come morning.

The guard finally stepped into view, two trays in hand as he rummaged for the proper key. "You try anything, and I'll send you to the grave m'self." he growled at her, the heavy locks giving way under the leverage of the old key as he shoved the cell door open. "Here. Choke on it." he snarled, tossing the tray onto the makeshift table as the watery contents of the bowl splashed over the sides. He spat at the ground next to her before turning his attention to Alim. "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your distance from that." he warned, jerking his head in her direction as he shoved the tray of stale bread and watered down soup towards the Redguard.
Thyra watched him carefully, noting the playful glint in his eyes, if not a bit troublesom, to the way his lean form moved with a flowing grace and subtle strength that could rival any khajiit. A small smile spread across her pale, cracked lips and she laughed lightly. "Well, it seems we are both in trouble." Thyra returned, pulling the leather throng from her windswept braid in an attempt to regain control of blonde locks. What a mess she had gotten herself into.

"You'll make yourself pass out that way." She warned him lightly, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she glanced up from her braid. A sharp pain was burrowing its way into her stomach and she finally began to take note of her empty belly.

At long last she let out a sigh, turning her attention to his last statement with a frown. "If they knew they could get away with it, they would save the headsman the journey, I assure you. Damn Imperials." She spit the words as if they were fire on her tongue, a rage igniting in her violet gaze as her features set into a deep scowl. "Faithless cowards."

She seemed to stew over the events of her capture for a while before inhaling deeply, her features softening. "Doesn't matter now, does it? Though they could at least bring some damn bread. No nord wants to face death on am empty stomach." Her words rolled from her tongue, crisp and full of the deep accent accustomed to the natives of her home. There was no hiding her irritation in regards to her hunger. A nord could abide a great many things, but an empty belly and an empty tankard did not make that list. She glared at her soft, freshly blistered hands in frustration.
Oh my, I love that piece of artwork.


Thyra stumbled slightly as the guard dragged her along behind him, the chains of her shackles rattling as she moved. The irony of the situation was not lost on her; her father had promised her as a child that one day she would see Cyrodiil, and now it would be the last thing she ever saw. They stopped in front of a cell, though it looked no different than the rest. Same thick iron bars and sparse furniture, if you could call it that. What threw her off guard was that this particular cell was already occupied.

There was a brief exchange between the young Redguard and the idiot who had practically dragged her down the long hallway of the prison, before the guard turned to her. Eyeing the young Redguard curiously for a moment she finally turned her attention to the guard's venomous gaze and glared. His mocking words echoed slightly in the damp darkness of the prison, a less than gentle shove forcing her into the cell as soon as the shackles were removed from her wrists. She frowned as he made his exit, rubbing the thick red lines of her wrists with a snort. "Those who come to see me? Doubt there will be much of that." she mumbled under her breath, violet eyes scanning the small dimly lit cell. Her gaze turned to the Redguard who apparently was to occupy the same space, his curious statement catching her attention. She sighed, shaking her head. "Aye, more than I bargained for I'm afraid." she replied dryly, her heavy northern accent making her origins more than apparent. "Talos give me strength." she mumbled, sinking to rest her back against the cool gray stone of the far wall.

The wagon ride from Skyrim to Cyrodiil had been less than pleasant, leaving her far too sore and tired to note the emptiness of her belly. She glanced back to her new cell mate, a wry smile lighting her face. "A thief, hm? Don't suppose you know how to pick that lock then?" despite her question there wasn't a lot of hope that echoed in her tone, though she figured it couldn't hurt to ask. She doubted she would make it far, but sitting around waiting for the headsman was certainly not a pleasant option either. Would Sovngarde even have her? Part of her doubted it. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, as if she could exhale the entire weight of her heart in a single breath. "My name is Thyra." she introduced herself, turning her gaze back to him. She might as well get acquainted, the Redguard thief was likely the only interaction she would get before...she didn't care to finish that line of thought, instead turning her attention to the sound of his voice as her eyes tried to make out the details of his face with what little light the flickering torches provided.
@POOHEAD189 Thank you. ^_^ I was worried my initial post was a little...dry? I tend to have a not-so-sparkling personality when I'm sleepy
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