hawksblooded

[hawksblooded]

Emily Dickinson, from her poem titled "1188," featured in The Emergency Poet

[hawksblooded]

Send me a 🚶 and I’ll introduce you to an NPC in my muse’s life.

[hawksblooded]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒 .    (  a collection of  action prompts.   feel free to reverse roles as desired. this prompt will be updated.  )

[ REDWOOD ] sender lashes out at receiver when it isn't their fault.

[ WILLOW ] sender embraces receiver in a moment of extreme distress.

[ PINE ] sender fervently resists receiver's attempts to comfort / care for them.

[ BIRCH ] sender finally ends a tense argument by reaching out to apologize.

[ POPLAR ] sender mentors receiver through learning a new skill.

[ PALM ] sender and receiver avoid / ignore the stresses of real life together.

[ ELM ] sender lends receiver aid in a time of urgent need.

[ MAGNOLIA ] sender, believed to be dead, arrives at receiver's door.

[ DOGWOOD ] sender gifts receiver a token of good luck / protection.

[ MULBERRY ] sender and receiver take a long walk through nature together.

[ HAZELNUT ] sender begrudgingly patches up receiver's wounds.

[ CAMPHOR ] sender suddenly pushes receiver out of danger's path.

[ CASHEW ] when they're finally alone, sender invites receiver to dance.

[ LAVENDER ] sender lays their head in receiver's lap and closes their eyes.

[ BEECH ] it comes to light that sender has betrayed receiver.

[ HIBISCUS ] sender invites receiver to go traveling with them.

[ HICKORY ] sender pushes receiver to admit that they need them.

[ MAPLE ] sender shakes receiver's shoulders, begging them to wake up.

[ CHERRY BLOSSOM ] sender revels in receiver's beauty, stunned.

[ JOSHUA ] sender offers receiver a safe place to hide / crash .

[ ASH ] sender and receiver become reacquainted after many years.

[ FIG ] sender, knowing receiver is hungry, pressures them to eat.

[ YEW ] sender beckons for receiver to join them in the water.

[ CYPRESS ] sender shamelessly flirts with receiver.

[ LINDEN ] sender cares for receiver, who took a hit to protect them.

[hawksblooded]

A  PEAK  AT  WHAT’S  INSIDE  THEIR          .    .    .

[  *  ]      writing prompt      )         :             send a number  1 - 30  to take a closer look inside this characters life.        /        below you will find a series of various prompts offering a look inside a characters every day life.        these are meant to invoke character development     &     can also be altered as seen fit to better suit the character in question.         bonus if you explain why it’s there!

01.     pockets. 02.     bag   /   purse. 03.     car trunk. 04.     car glovebox. 05.     closet. 06.     bedside table drawer. 07.     medicine cabinet. 08.     wallet. 09.     “junk” drawer. 10.     pantry. 11.     phone home screen. 12.     frequently used emojis. 13.     to do list. 14.     computer home screen. 15.     bookcase. 16.     cd collection. 17.     calendar for this month. 18.     “secret” hiding spot. 19.     five most recent in contact list.  20.     refrigerator.  21.     home safe.  22.     amazon shopping cart.  23.     bank account.  24.     first aid kit.  25.     five most recent in google search history.  26.     most used playlist.  27.     least used playlist.  28.     five most recent sent text messages  29.     five most recent received text messages  30.     netflix watch history. 

[hawksblooded]

She wanted to scream, but a person who is alone—alone in the absolute sense of the word—does not scream out her despair; it is useless. Deserts do not hear. But she can do things with her hands which even a desert must notice. She can tear at the sand until the desert bleeds.

– Stig Dagerman, from “Men of Character,” The Games of Night (Quartet, 1986)

[hawksblooded]

[hawksblooded]

THERE’S NOTHING REMARKABLE ABOUT the hamlet she’s stopped at, and there’s nothing remarkable about the night she spends there.  The town offers a quaint respite from her travels. No work awaits a monster hunter here. Alizebeth sits alone in a corner of the tavern, sipping bad ale. It’s a lovely little place, lively but not too packed - if it were, she’d be in the stables, sat in the hay and the quiet of the night. After two weeks on the road, she admits the warmth of the fireplace and the comforts of a proper room appeal, to say nothing of the promise of warm meals. The surrounding lands are rich with forage, but even sun-warmed berries can’t beat a good rabbit stew. Her wolfhound slumbers at her feet, having licked the wooden bowl clean of the meat scraps.

She’s on her fourth drink when the screaming starts, shrill and sudden.

Well, she sighs, nevermind that, and sets her cup down. Work everywhere nowadays, it seems. And here she thought she could catch her breath, settle down a short while. What’s it this time? The commotion grows outside, loud with the wailing of the town’s brass alarm bell. Must mean real business. Panic seizes the crowd as some amass by the windows. A band of mercenaries put down their forks and head for the door. Alizebeth grabs the enormous crossbow that hangs at her back, preemptively loads it with a bolt. A man runs in from the street, haggard and screaming. The smell of smoke follows him. Smoke and the tangy iron of blood.

“ It’s killing everyone! At the square - it’s - ”

It must be a monster. She stops her preparations, thinks on the possibilities. A gnoll? No, it wouldn’t be alone. What would descend upon a village so indiscriminately, and so early in the night? Perhaps a werewolf. Rare, but not impossible. At the square, the man had screamed. So be it. Barking hound in tow, Alizebeth shoves her way through the crowd, crossbow firmly in hand and greatsword at her back. Good, she thinks. This’ll pay for my stay.

When her long strides finally take her to the town square, lured by smoke and a trail of lacerated bodies, she stops right in her tracks. 

The sight would be absurd if it were not so violent. Corpses litter the street, some armed, all bloodied. A dropped torch has set a market stall aflame, and the fire is spreading fast. At the center of the carnage, incongruous so far from any shore, stands an enormous lobster-like creature, it’s carapace as blue as the summer sky. It wields a whip tailed with sharp barnacles, its giant pincer bloodstained. It looks all the brighter, all the stranger for the red that mars its shell. Something about it, strange as it appears, freezes the blood in the hunter’s veins.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck.

That’s not good.

Not a gnoll. Not a werewolf. Perhaps not even a shifter at all. No, this is something entirely other. This is something she doesn’t know. It stands with its segmented back to her, tail wagging - no mere beast, wielding a weapon as it does. Has it heard her? Can it hear? It can kill, she can see that much. And here comes that feeling, at once frigid and like flame: fear.

She holds up her crossbow, puts the strange beast in her sights. Will her bolts even make it through its armor? Gods damn it all. She breathes out, ready to loose her shot.

Whatever the fuck it is, she hopes it doesn't like steel.

Crying won't help you, praying won't do you no good No, crying won't help you, praying won't do you no good

When The Levee Breaks

-- a closed starter with @hawksblooded / @henosiis

Mama, you got to move.

- - -

    The last man standing tries to flee, but his fate is sealed. The whip swings at him from the side, the end unfurling into nine smaller strands that wrap around his body like vines. He screams from the deepest pits of him as the barnacles growing on the cords sink their stone hard beaks into his flesh. He isn't in pain for long.

    William yanks the whip as he opens the massive claw that is his left arm from the elbow down. The spikes lining the inside of the pincer are already dripping red, a gruesome antithesis of his sky blue carapace. He thrusts it forward as the whip rockets back.

    The man's body drops to the stained ground. The head sails somewhere into the piles of dead littered around the village square.

    All is silent save the crackle of something burning and casting a pillar of smoke to the clouds.

    William looses a long, tense breath, a white, Otherworldly mist hissing past his mandibles. That they forced him to Shift doesn't make his terrible mood any better. He was leaving. He was leaving this nothing town and its nothing people not for greener pastures but for steps in the direction of his next destination. Someone must've seen. Seen him. And instead of letting him leave, they raised an alarm. A monster, one who'd supped with them and stayed at the inn last night, was in their midst. They came for him with poleaxe and blade and bow. They could've come for him with an army, it made no difference.

    Now he needs to travel even farther and faster before word of this disaster outpaces him and the entire country bellows for his blood. The only thing going for him is being able to conceal himself as a full human. If he lies low, this might blow over, like hunkering down on the ocean floor as a hurricane rages above.

    William coils the whip up, shuts his eyes, and urges his hearts to desync. No more need for two as one. The strain Shifting puts on his human side is intense. Trekking out of here was already going to be arduous; he isn't looking forward to doing so exhausted.

    When he opens his eyes, a blue, armored half-fae looks back at him in the reflection of a window.

    That's not supposed to happen.

    Adams approaches the glass. No, he's still covered in chitin plates. The elaborate, eternal knots looping on his chest still proclaim him as holy, allegedly. His segmented tail still wags when he makes it.

    He can't feel his human half at all.

    And as his anger dissolves into a pool of frigid dread in his guts, a single thought occurs to him: that's not good.

[hawksblooded]

Oh no, oh no, he is seducing me with his deep passion for his field of study and his genuine joy at teaching people about it

[hawksblooded]

[DAZED FROM BLOOD LOSS] hey not to kill the vibe completely but i think i am in love with you

[hawksblooded]

RATE  YOUR  MUSE'S  TRAITS  0-10 !   repost  and  rate  your  muse’s  traits,   then  tag  your  followers

compassion : 6/10 bitterness : 7/10 happiness : 4/10 politeness : 1/10 chivalry : 5/10 pride : 6/10 honesty : 10/10 bravery : 10/10 recklessness : 6/10 ambition : ?/10 loyalty : 8/10 love : 4/10 sense of family : 6/10 attractiveness : 5/10 agility : 8/10 sex drive : 4/10 tagged by @sunmad tagging: @0fbabylon @ki-pulse @swordluck @amberedcorpse @shepcdr

[hawksblooded]

WHAT ARE YOU THE DEITY OF?

FLORA AND FAUNA. you’re friendly and a benevolent force to those who respect you and your domain, but a true force to be reckoned with to those who disrespect or threaten the balance of the natural world. the forest is nothing to fear for those who take care of it, but it isn’t uncommon for people to go missing with only their faces outlined in the bark on a tree.

tagged by: @sunmad tagging: @fishermcn @1stspectre @0fbabylon @ki-pulse

[hawksblooded]

if i were to make a headcanon/worldbuilding post on here talking about my setting what should i talk about..............

[hawksblooded]

the kind of person they get along with the best/ for Alizebeth

multimuse asks.

A small guide to being friends with Alizebeth, or at least what she considers to be friends: - Be quiet. This is important. She cannot stand constant chatter. Talking is for when you have something to say, and it better be something substantial. She doesn't expect everyone to be as quiet and pragmatic with language as she is, she knows better than that, but she is the most comfortable in the company of those who know when to keep to themselves. - Be competent. Whatever job you're here for, whatever skill you have, she has immense respect for people with genuine ability. Claiming to be something you're not, or to be skilled in something you're not, is a fast road to her irritation and being impatient with someone. In general, she will think more highly of those who show competence in their occupations, especially good fighters. - Be careful. She appreciates someone who knows the value of their own life and doesn't take reckless or thoughtless decisions and actions. - Be accepting. She needs her space, she needs her quiet, and she will not (by which I mean is unable to) change those aspects of herself for someone else. Even in more developed relationships, she tends to spend time away from her companions, to do things on her own, sometimes for hours and sometimes for days and weeks. It's simply who she is, and someone who wants or expects her to change those behaviors isn't someone she can get along with for very long. - Cheat code: be a woman. Sorry to the boys out there, but Liz is very lesbian and generally is much more tolerant and patient with women than men. Is that problematic? Maybe!

TLDR: her ideal companion is someone who is quiet, good at their job, not reckless, and willing to tolerate her own quirks and wild nature. Or just be a pretty woman and have all your misbehavings excused because gay.

[hawksblooded]

God bless Kathleen Turner

[hawksblooded]

more uwu w/ rare liz smile under the cut

sorry not sorry just more mhwilds liz screenshots... my girl...

[hawksblooded]

sorry not sorry just more mhwilds liz screenshots... my girl...

[hawksblooded]