#The Pursuit
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nerevar-quote-and-star · 2 years ago
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Karliah, pushing Brynjolf against the wall: WHERE'S MERCER FREY?!
Brynjolf:
Brynjolf: Are we about to kiss—
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femininenachos · 11 months ago
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Hi. I've noticed you changed the number of chapters for your fic "the pursuit". Did you change your mind about the epilogue?
I want to return to it when I feel inspired enough, but I didn’t want the 7/8 chapter count hanging over me in the meantime, considering the main story is complete and the epilogue would just be an added bonus. I do plan to write it at some point, I just don’t know when that will be, sorry!
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helgiafterdark · 6 months ago
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random-xpressions · 2 years ago
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Here's the gist of all my lamentation - this earth and all that it contains could never really quench me. My search and my pursuit had always been about something nameless, something from the beyond. However, I do get a few glimpses in between, a little taste of what it must be like, in a child's innocent laughter, in a mother's selfless love, in a friend's beautiful companionship, in a distant stranger's enchanting eyes that I'm yet to see...
Random Xpressions
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thequeendomhq · 6 months ago
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THE PURSUIT ~
NAME. UTP AGE & BIRTH DATE. UTP SPECIES. Faimen FACTION. UTP OCCUPATION. Gladiator
You had chosen the mortal life, because what else were you to do with your time? Sure, it wasn’t forever, but an extended chance at screwing things up? That was going to be an easy pass. You had a knack for stealing, but that’s only because you had to. But you also weren’t good at it. You’d take, and take, get caught, get released, and take again. Sometimes you learned your lesson, but the lesson was easy: don’t steal from that person again. So off you went, back into the world, to do more nefarious things. You had a big ego, so when you got a manhunt on your back, you thought: this was your big moment. You sent them on a wild goose chase, and it was fun while it lasted - until you were caught. You had a debt to pay, and choosing to become a gladiator seemed like the best way out. Life in Avalon didn’t seem so bad as you wasted your mortal years in a Ludus, but once you were free, you decided that once again you had something to live for. Being a gladiator was fun, and if you were to die, then so be it.
CONNECTS
N/A
NOTES
ABILITY: Teleportation: The ability to teleport to a distance nearby in their ling of sight.
this skeleton is currently open
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grainelevator · 1 year ago
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Faraway views (right lens of my binoculars)
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pangur-and-grim · 4 months ago
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I’m happy that Belphie and Grim are friends, but I have……mixed feelings, about how he’s begun modelling his behaviour off her. she is SUCH a cranky grandma, and now I have my tiny kitten whining and grumbling over everything just like she does
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nosamyrag · 5 months ago
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jaybateman · 5 months ago
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Why is it so hard to describe?
I, would call it love if it rhymed
But I need the perfect word
I even rehearsed it first
So I won’t get confused
So I know how to use, this thing
Girl, it’s the only truth
It’s the only damn thing
In my understanding
That could get us through
The word is you
And the word is you
It’s you baby..
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withbellzon · 7 months ago
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nerevar-quote-and-star · 2 years ago
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Jolinar Aren, showing back up in The Ragged Flagon after Mercer told everyone she was dead: Hi, honey, I’m home.
Brynjolf: And what sort of time do you call this?!
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spookygibberish · 4 months ago
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Silly design exercise in which I customize the homunculi and throw them into blenders
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femininenachos · 2 years ago
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hi! I just read the first two chapters of the pursuit for the first time and I just wanted to say that holy shit your writing style and characterization is amazing!! The way you perfectly blended the world of the 100 with the Wild West is fucking amazing, and your descriptions of the scenery and the characters is god tier. I honestly can’t wait for more !
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🥹 Thank you! This fic is a real labour of love so I’m absolutely delighted to hear you’re enjoying it so far.
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helgiafterdark · 6 months ago
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random-xpressions · 1 year ago
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thequeendomhq · 26 days ago
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NAME. Corinna AGE & BIRTH DATE.  37 & February 14, 2987 AC GENDER & PRONOUNS. Female & She/her NATIONALITY. Lysara SPECIES. Faiman FACTION. College of Bards OCCUPATION. Gladiator FACE CLAIM. Nicola Coughlan 
biography
Corinna’s first years are full of warmth. 
A elvhen woman with fiery red hair cradles her close, a roaring laughter breaking through the still silence of the decrepit room, and together they dance to an unheard melody. The same elvhen woman, her mother Revanelan, laughing before a mirror as she points at her first wrinkle, joy on her face at growing older for the first time in centuries. Her mother nudges her arm lower, as she teaches her the proper technique to the fighting style passed down in their family. 
Joy, laughter, and freedom surround the memories of her early years; as Corinna stumbled from one form into the other, escaping the swipes from her mother with a little giggle of amusement and a clap full of cheer. As she cheered for Revanelan from the corner of the inn, as she beat down troublesome customers that had invaded the inn they were visiting. The dirt of the road on her sandals as she teleported to the distance and back, asking her mother to move faster, please, so they could reach Eterna sooner rather than later.
Always quick on her feet, the faiman stumbled through the first ten years of her life with a giggle here and a giggle there. Always cheerful, always playful, nothing could bring her down.
Not even the blade protruding from her mother’s chest as she stood between her and a bandit, and told Corinna to run. 
Run and not look back. Never look back. 
All of ten years old, holding her mother as the only authority in her life, Corinna ran. She ran until her feet blistered, until she exhausted her teleportation, until she saw the city of Eterna looming in the distance. Then she begged for help, for anyone to turn around and save her mother, to save the only family she ever had, the only home she knew. 
No one listened. 
No one would listen to what she would say for a very long time. 
From wanderer to street urchin, from daughter to nobody. The warmth of her memories made the cold of the streets all the more cold, knowing what she was missing; and a desperation took root on her as she watched the world through teary blue eyes. Corinna wanted the safety of her mother, gone back to the cycle of reincarnation; she wanted the joy and laughter of her childhood, stolen by the very same greed taking root on her self. But she couldn’t get her mother back, she couldn’t get back her laughter and joy as she stayed in the streets. 
So she did what she had to survive. 
At first, her plan was simple: slip into a store like it was nothing, swipe her target and pop out of the store with her teleportation, not caring who saw her. Who could catch her, when she disappeared like the wind? 
Plenty of people, actually. 
She was trained in her mother’s fighting style, but she was young and inexperienced; and she got caught more than she slipped free. Young as she was, it was more of a game of catch and release, repeat and rinse over and over again. 
It would have continued this way, all the way to an early death, if she hadn’t caught the eye of a Maestro one night.
All of five feet one inches, fourteen year old Corinna seemed like an easy prey; but for all that she was tragically bad at the thievery that kept her fed, she excelled at the sort of combat her mother had taught her. Acrobatics and stumbles kept her safe in the dirty streets of Eterna, and a particularly bad fight where she downed a man twice her size with a well placed punch and a quip, drew the attention of a Eldar of the Arts. 
Varius Septimus, werewolf and jester extraordinary, witnessed Corinna aimed a well placed kick to her opponents arse and into a pile of horse dung, and laughed with the crowd as she exclaimed that at the very least he smelled better now than he had throughout his entire life. He saw a spark of promise in the little faiman, and decided to put it to the test. 
An invitation to the College of Bards has to be earned, after all, and for all the potential he believed the little urchin to have, there was a need to ensure the product would live to expectations. 
Varius designed a series of tests, without Corinna’s knowledge, and watched for her reactions to the obstacles presented. He watched, and noticed how she used comedy as a shield, safeguarding a vulnerable heart with carefully timed stumbles and jokes, wearing the guise of a fool to misdirect from the loneliness in her eyes. He watched as she was thrown into cells meant for adults, and how she ingrained herself in the guards, getting off with just a slap in the wrists due to being too young, too cute, too funny, to remain behind bars. 
He watched, and he made a decision. 
Varius presented Corinna with a choice: to be sponsored and attend the College of Bards, or to rot in the streets like any other common criminal. 
The choice was easy, Corinna thought, but she failed to read the fine print. 
Varius would sponsor her, yes, but would not bear the costs: rather, he would charge her a fee, on top of the debt she accrued by going to the College, so that she repaid him for the gift of his sponsorship.
Corinna didn’t realize her mistake until years down the line, as she received her ring that showed her mastery over the School of Art. 
As she held the ring, and contemplated her suddenly bright future, Varius and his debt came calling; pulling the rug from beneath her feet and telling her that she would never have the freedom she desired. 
Her patience, already wearing thin after years of toil to receive her mastery, snapped under the weight of the truth and Corinna defaulted to old habits. Thievery never came easy to her, for she was far too loud and impulsive for the careful craft, but her new position as a bard opened doors of luxury unlike anything she had ever seen before. Hired to more and more fancy gigs due to her quips and her growing name as a well-renowned jester, blue eyes couldn’t help but to wander to the goblets of gold and the decorative statues decorating the abodes of those she was meant to amuse. 
Rich, decadent, and spoiled, they would never notice anything missing, right? 
It was a move born from desperation, and one many would call unwise, but what else could she do? Allow herself to be shackled with a debt forever more? 
Never. 
It began small, with some jewelry here, a vase there. Small things that she thought the nobility would not notice until it was too late, but soon she grew bold, bolstered by her growing fame and the admiration she gained from it. Soon, it wasn’t just stealing to pay bigger and bigger chunks of her enormous debt, but also stealing to get what she was owed from those she had deigned to amuse. 
Corinna had paid around two thirds of her debt, when all came to head. 
A stubborn magister noticed the trail of robberies and connected the dots that led to her, and in a moment of impulsive spunk, she confessed her crimes in the middle of a routine. 
Oops.
What followed was, what she calls, the manhunt of the century. Teleportation ability refined to bolster her performances, Corinna popped in and out of buildings, around the city of Eterna and beyond, leaving behind nothing but a mischievous laugh, the afterimages of an impish smile, and a twirl of dust as she disappeared from before her pursuers eyes and reappeared at their backs with a cheeky wave before she turned around and ran. 
It was a wild-goose chase, it was the entertainment of the year; but Corinna had never been a long-term planner, and capture was inevitable. 
As she stood before the judge, she was given a choice: a life of boredom as she rotted in a cell, or a life of thrill as she fought for her life in the arena. 
The choice was easy, so to the arena she went. 
At first, she did nothing more than complain as she won match after match while making fools of her opponents. Perhaps life in Avalon would have been better, she mused on the night of her thirtieth birthday as she slammed her first into her opponent’s face and broke their nose. Then, at the very least, she wouldn’t have been wasting her youth behind bars and away from bars, she sighed longingly as she bent out of the way of a blow, allowing her dress to ride up and offering  her opponent — and more importantly the crowd —  a glimpse of creamy white skin. 
It all changed when the cheers of the crowds began to turn in her favor, her ego soothed by the calls of her name as she stumbled away from one blow and the other. One thing, she had learned in her time at the College of the Bards: she was born to perform. One thing, she learned in her time as an indentured Gladiator: the arena was a stage.
Halfway through her sentence, Corinna’s perspective of the whole debacle changed and she began putting effort into the fights, beyond that which she had put to survive. A persona for the arena was born, and she began to enjoy the glee that came with the game of survival. 
Ten long years, she fought in the arena to make up for her crimes. Ten long years, she remained chained to a ludi she did not like. 
Then she was freed from one set of chains, only to be reminded of the chains of the debt she had yet to repay. 
She had a choice, then: to attempt to make a living as a bard after her reputation had hit rock bottom or to remain in the arena for willing gladiators who were well compensated for their work. 
Corinna knew which choice was more fun. 
Why would she care about the dangers? Death was inevitable, and at least if she chose the arena she would have fun before she died.
Might as well go out with a bang. 
personality
+ Bold. Funny. Thrifty. – Egocentric. Rowdy. Impulsive.
played by ori. est. she/her.
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