#zaiusrhalseer

[zaiusrhalseer]

Done by the amazing DrGriswald depicting Zaius in his natural environment. One of them, at least. Working hard during the Ghimlyt Dark campaign. Can’t say enough about how amazing this came out, there’s so much little detail.

Also, fuzzy tail. Look at it.

[tiergan-vashir]

∞ Because.

If I Think They Are: Ugly || Plain || Alright || Cute || Freaking Adorable || Pretty || Beautiful || Handsome || Stunning

“Zaius…”  Tiergan breathed out the name with sharp furrow of his brow that made it difficult to tell if he felt annoyance, desire, or an unfortunate amalgamation of both.  “He is tall, powerful, built like a behemoth. He looks like a piece of the night sky torn down and given the form of a man, too striking to be ignored.  What else is there to say?”

If I Would Go On A Date With Them: Not even if we were the last two one earth || No || Maybe || Eh….Sure || Yes || WILL YOU MARRY ME

“A date or a spar?  I feel like wherever we’d go, violence would most likely follow. …Unless he’s cooking.  He’s actually quite good at it.  That and anything else he decides to pour all of his focus into.”

If I Trust Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of, Sort of, It’s Complicated || Yes || With My Life

A deep grimace worked its way across harsh features, muscle all along his broad frame coiling tight with tension. “It depends entirely upon the situation.

I trust that he will always be there. I trust that he will persist and survive through almost anything. I trust that no matter how much the world changes, shifts, or unravels itself around me, Zaius will be a constant. I trust that if he gives me his word on something, it will be kept.  I trust that if he tells me he will do something, it will be done.  I trust that he will tell me the truth without deception.

But I do not trust that he is safe, because he is not.  Not around my companions. Not around strangers.  Not even around me.  Not unless he’s given his word.”

If I Care About Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of || Yes || Deeply

“Zaius is one of the few people who knows me from my past and has seen sides of me few others have. Through out everything, all of change, loss, betrayal, and destruction - he has been there: the one constant.

I know it’s not wise, healthy or smart, but despite all of his bloodlust, madness, and cruelty, there have been times he was the only one who helped keep me sane.  

…I care and I know it will ruin me one day.”

If I Would Sleep With Them: Not Enough Alcohol in the World || No || Maybe if I were wasted || Maybe || Eh…Sure || Yes, bastard || TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF NOW!

Tiergan only scowls. Deeply.

My Comfort Level With Your Muse: Keep a Distance || Okay You Can Stand There, But Don’t Touch Me || Let’s Get Coffee and Talk || Let’s Viciously Brawl || I Can Change In Front of You || Let’s Take a Bath Together

“He’s about as safe as a demon, but with what we’ve both been through - there’s few things I feel uncomfortable doing around him.  

Unless it’s introducing him to a particularly powerful friend.”

If I See You As: A Stranger || An Acquaintance || A Friend || A Close Friend || Close Confidant || A Lover || A Rival || The Love of My Life

“A Lover. Rival. Friend. Enemy… Zaius is all of them all at once.”

∞ Meme Closed

[berrodarmstrong]

The other side of the Wall. 

A talk about the twenty years of Imperial rule in Gyr Abania, and of the young generation raised in its clutches. 

((Featuring @dynamitecowboy , @nhara-tia , @zaiusrhalseer , @tiergan-vashir , @miqoteken , @gregoshorner @s-udarshana , @jancisstuff @cfs-melkire , @florihilda , @sarijrahzersyn , and hosted by @friendly-fire-engaged !))

[shroudblessings]

Mhamó,

       **This originally took place during the Heavensward expansion!**

We are neighbors with Ishgard but only by location and even then such a word is rarely heard when the frozen city is mentioned. Mhamo , you're still one of the few who can recall Ishgard with fond if but fading memory. I've not forgotten how you used to spin tales of their castles reaching higher than any cloud in the sky, the sweeping dresses of silk and furrs their women would wear. You'd claim their night skies were beautiful, always painted by fiercely bright stars but couldn't remain to admire it long because of their infamously chilly winds.

Would you believe that I'm destined to visit the city soon? A letter was sent to the Stillglade Fane from a chiurgeon of Ishgard requesting for aid. They must consider it a private matter because our mentors haven't held a meeting but are requesting for my peers in a private audience. My turn eventually came and they've explained to me that many have conflicted feelings for visiting there, knowing they willingly venture onto war torn grounds and not being informed of what the purpose is. I can't blame their suspicions but I'm thankful our Elder Seedseer has given us freedom to make our decision.

My mentors mention it relates to a prisoner they've taken and need to keep him coherent enough to stand trial, as to avoid speculation they've been torturing them. A fierce beast of a man who demands violence above all else. 

I strive to remain neutral without knowing the entire truth but I must be honest with myself; this prisoner may test the very foundation of my morality. Yet what confuses me the most is that this letter also requested for a Keeper but cannot disclose why just yet. Everyone must've known their demands because when I accepted the offer, everyone I've crossed paths with recently in the Fane gaze upon me with concern.

This entire situation makes my heart feel uneasy but I must see this through. It's true, Ishgard had abandoned us and the other city states during our time of need but they are in the middle of war, on the teetering edge of complete loss. Your wonderful stories keep me impassioned to stay on this path, Mhamo, so I pray to all those fierce stars in the sky that they will watch over me as I cross into the unforgiving frozen plains of Isghard..

~Amh 

@zaiusrhalseer​ for mention & use of screenshot!

[suwanbuwan]

A request by Lurial (@tiergan-vashir) was approved to fortify the Wards around the Astral Advent estate. Suwan being one of the senior mages of the Agency got the memo and sanctioned the approval for the fortification ritual. The ritual requires a magicked stone to amplify the wards. Suwan enlisted the aid of Zaius (@zaiusrhalseer). Together the pair traveled to an ancient Belah’dian Temple ruin. Suwan used his spells to unmend the mystical traps while Zaius slayed the temple guardian monsters. Suwan then set up a meeting with Lurial and Sergei (@sergei-harlenk) to administer the fortification ritual at the Agency estate.

[sophiagrave-ffxiv]

Guilty Pleasures

((This short immediately follows this RP: http://sophiagrave-ffxiv.tumblr.com/post/158330455017/sophia-zaius-blood-bullets))

@tiergan-vashir

@zaiusrhalseer

In this moment Sophia learned, once again, that teleportation and Garlean blood does not mix.

As she snaps into being, intense vertigo robs her of her footing. She reaches out for something-- anything to helps her steady herself-- and winds up pulling a table down with her, complete with the cacophonous clatter of falling dishes, paper, tools, and her sword. Her body falls on her arm and the dull throbbing pain becomes laced with the stinging bites of dirt and sand rubbing their way into her wounds.

Whatever adrenaline had kept her going just moments ago had now thoroughly abandoned her. It felt like a hot dagger tearing into her sides with every twist and turn of her body. As she tried to pick herself up, her arms would shake violently as her muscles panicked under the stress from a dozen finger-wide gashes zigzagging their way up each arm. Her left elbow was swollen, unable to even straighten her arm, and her forehead was throbbing.

After another flimsy attempt at rising, she rolls onto her back. Her body was either going numb, or it was almost comfortable lying there on her home’s patio. Either way, it was an excellent time to learn a lesson.

Why did she do that?

Try as she might, the Garlean cannot conjure a good reason why she had gone to meet that animal. A weapons test could have been conducted anywhere; she didn't need him or his steel. Why would she teach him about firearms, which were perhaps her greatest advantage over him? What if he did take to marksmanship? The thought makes her chuckle. Almost. The laugh catches in her throat and deflates into a pained moan when her broken sides scold her for the sudden, unwelcome movement.

That was quickly getting old, so it was time to get up. She rocks to one side then lurches over onto her knees, exhaling sharp breaths and trembling groans through grit teeth. She grabs hold of the doorframe and plants her footing carefully beneath her before shakily rising straight up.

Her ‘home’ was little more than a sparsely decorated studio. Four dusty walls and a roof, a simple bed, a work table dominating much of the space, and shelving chock full of a myriad of jars, gadgets, books, and tools on every wall. The only items of any immediate value was a freestanding rack of various dresses and outfits standing at the foot of her bed and the mini aetheryte behind her. As a whole, the space had few redeeming qualities, save for a patio overlooking the Sapphire Avenue Exchange below. It was very loud very often, and the smells wafting up from the Exchange were not always pleasant, but she did enjoy that space-- at least she did when she wasn't bleeding and falling all over it.

Of course, her aid kits were on the wall nearest her front door-- the wall furthest away from where she currently stood. She steeles herself, and begins slowly around the large worktable between her and sweet relief. Though mostly uninjured, her legs were heavy and her footing not exactly steady, suggesting that she was losing more blood than she realized.

Lacking in any dexterity or grace, she pulls a small lockbox from the shelf, then practically collapses into a chair, letting the box fall into her lap. She flips the lid open, and digs around first for a solid-looking syringe, which she unceremoniously stabs into her chest a few ilms beneath her collar, then tosses the emptied device onto the table. She takes in a deep breath as the concoction does its work. While still exhausted, at least her fingers weren't shaking anymore.

Next, she finds a pair of scissors. Her top was a leather-colored sweater at some point, but now it was shredded to ribbons all along her arms and discolored by blood and dust. Starting from neck to shoulder, she cuts away what little fabric held the thing together, then does the same on the other side until she's able to simply wriggle out of the bloody mess of cotton and carbontwine that was formerly her shirt.

Now, she was finally able to get a good look at her arms. She could make out each set of four fingered rakes etched into her flesh. The outer two were often shallow, but the inner two were often deep or wide or both. Some were still bleeding, and others were crusted shut with blood and sand. It'd be a process to fix, but for now, her bed was looking awfully inviting. She opts instead for a quick fix.

Her hands go digging back into the box, producing a small, shallow glass jar full of a white, waxy substance followed by another more traditional bottle housing a thin liquid. She uncorks the latter first and pours it carefully over her wounds. The solution hisses and bubbles as it pulls bacteria from her wounds. She unscrews the shallow jar and with two fingers, pulls a glob of its contents to apply to the deeper gouges, filling each bloody fissure.

Now for the hard part. Sophia finds a long, thick match in one of the pockets of her belt and strikes it. She lowers her left arm flat against the table and clenches her jaw. Slowly, she lowers the match until it's but an ilm from the white wax filling her wound. The Garlean closes her eyes, focusing on finishing the grueling process.

This was unacceptable, and it only made her angry to consider just why she’d allow such a thing to happen. She's killed men before. Even hulking animals like him. They were never especially interesting or enlightening, but where that man was concerned, Sophia began to have thoughts. Considerations. Doubts, perhaps.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, life without the Empire would be interesting. She liked to think she'd be the same woman with the same skillset, and it was something close to tantalizing to consider what she could accomplish without being fettered to a nation with all its… policy and goals and failings.

Sometimes, she'd imagine the very groups she'd personally dismantle over her career, and what she'd have done in their shoes. Doman rebels, who'd she divide with paranoia and suspicion. Corrupt provincial magistrates, who she would tempt to bite off more than they could chew and ultimately destroy themselves. Or the Ala Mhigan rebels, who would alienate themselves from their own people with their desperate acts of violence and rebellion. Each time, Sophia would learn a valuable lesson and be that much closer to making something for herself and only herself… if she'd ever take the plunge.

But Sovea eir Gravitas loved her country; she truly did. Where humanity failed people time and time again, the Empire wouldn't, even if it took a firm hand. She wanted nothing more than to do her part, which is why it was so maddening-- sickening, even-- for her to even consider selfishly absconding away to start a criminal enterprise or live like some sort of vagrant. Doing so would spit in the face of every man and woman who has suffered in this war, whether they be Imperial or otherwise. Sophia never sugar-coated it for herself; this was war. Rapid expansion into more-often-than-not civilian territory, uprooting the lives of people who deserve it the least and changing them forever. The Empire goes for the jugular, and the least we could do was make it as quick and painless as possible.

So why… WHY would she ever consider turning her back on that? Why did he? Even if Sophia had been born on the other side, she'd rail against the Empire with everything she had, if that's what she would have believed. Instead, he hoards his frightening power for himself for his own personal freedom and whims.

The more she thought about it, the more she hated him. It made her seethe more than the slow burning medical sealant in her arms.

And yet, as she played the fight over and over in her head, she couldn't help but crack a smile. It was thrilling. More fun than she had in all the past moons of meetings, paperwork, and bribes. Encounters with that man were more dire, more fatal, more carnal than anything the Empire could assign to her.

Sophia turns her arms over to inspect her work. She notices quickly that her nails buried themselves in her palms during the procedure. She also rubs at her eyes with her wrist, clearing away tears. She didn't know if that was from the pain or from the mental gymnastics she was doing in her head, and she didn't want to know. All she wanted to know now was sleep.

The woman finds bandages from the box and wraps her arms carefully, using her teeth to tie knots just under both shoulders. The waxy sealant would hold until tomorrow and help spur muscle regeneration. Then, she could find a proper healer or at least someone to give her stitches. Sophia rises from the chair, groggy. She makes her way to the bed, unties her hair, and collapses. Her side had gone purple, no doubt due to a broken rib or two, but she had no interest in getting back up. Her breathing was fine, so she'd last through the night, she guessed. She reaches behind her, pulling string and unbuckling the clamp holding her boots tight and kicks them off, followed soon by her pants as she worms her way beneath a thick blanket.

For barely a moment, she begins mentally listing her errands for the following day. She'd have to pick up those poisons she commissioned. She'd have to increase her strength training regimen, thanks to the muscles in her arms being shredded. There was that lunch with Nanora tomorrow too, and her collapsing sword was jamming again…

But it isn't long until sleep takes hold of the Garlean. A warm breeze flows through the Exchange and up to her window, and her apartment falls silent, save for the labored breathing of the Garlean.

[theafkcat]

Interview with Ja'ren

((Dangit Kepa.))

1. What is your name?

"Ja'ren."

2. What is your real name?

"..A'leh'to."

3. Do you know why you were called that?

"Mom and Dad wanted my name to reflect Keeper and Seeker conventions."

4. Are you single or taken?

"Single."

5. Have any abilities or powers?

"I can see aether in the form of colors that tell a person's emotional state."

6. Stop being a Mary Sue.

"I told you my name, and that ain't it."

7. What’s your eye color?

"One red, one black."

8. How about your hair color?

"My natural is black and red, but I dye it blond on occasion."

9. Have you any family members?

"Yeah."

10. Oh? What about pets?

"Yes."

11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.

"Running away."

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?

*grins* "Target practice."

13. Ever hurt anyone before?

"Yes."

14. Ever…killed anyone before?

"Yup."

15. What kind of animal are you?

"Probably a very reclusive, black coeurl."

16. Name your worst habits.

*blinks* "Reflecting."

17. Do you look up to anyone at all?

"A couple of people, mainly Tiergan and Zaius."

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?

"..Does that matter?"

19. Do you go to school?

"For cooking, archery, and bards, yeah."

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

"Maybe."

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

"I wouldn't know, now would I?"

22. What are you most afraid of?

"Breaking my promise."

23. What do you usually wear?

*looks down at what he's wearing* "Stuff like this."

24. Do you love someone?

"Not the way you're thinking, but I am fond of a few people in varying ways."

25. When was the last time you wet yourself?

"..Probably when I was a kid."

26. Well, it’s not over yet!

"I'm not wetting the bed for you, buddy."

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class)

"We don't have that here."

28. How many friends do you have?

"Haven't counted."

29. What are your thoughts on pie?

"If it's my chocolate pie, you'd better stay out of my way."

30. Favorite drink?

"Kupo Cup."

31. What’s your favorite place?

"Oschon's stone."

32. Are you interested in someone?

"Perhaps."

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

 *laughs* "Next question."

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

"...Lake, it's smaller."

35. What’s your type?

"Dunno, not you."

36. Any fetishes?

"Any what?"

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive?

"..Are you making words up?"

38. Camping or indoors?

"Camping."

39. Are you wanting the interview to end?

"Don't really care one way or another, was an interesting diversion."

40. Now it’s over! Tag five people:

[zaiusrhalseer]

It’s been a while since I told you That I hate you You’ve turned the truth inside out Don’t turn you back when I face you Or I’ll make you You turned my world upside down

You get inside my head I want you out ‘Cause I’ve been betrayed on holy ground

Burying the truth with lies Fed up how you justify And I hate it And I hate it You're so despicable When you're acting reasonable And I hate it And I hate it Your words like firing guns, bullets raining The way you hurt me 'cause you never want to face it Your words like firing guns, bullets raining Bullets raining You never want to face it

What does it take now to break you To awake you To make you bow and spit it out Does it matter if I hate you Or embrace you Nothing makes you turn around

You got inside my head I want you out 'Cause I've been betrayed on holy ground

[berrodarmstrong]

Monk Night - Those who fight. 

@dynamitecowboy @jancisstuff @actuallyanalligator @zaiusrhalseer @hellocatemonster @friendly-fire-engaged @gregoshorner @florihilda @s-udarshana @viktor-harlenk @seneum

[zaiusrhalseer]

My turn!

Zaius Rhal’seer and Tiergan Vashir have joined your party!

Beginning Dungeon: “Let’s see what you’ve got today, ah’ra.”

Assisting: “Already? That’s disappointing.”

Being Assisted: “…tch. I actually did have that one.”

Idle/Waiting 1: “I hope that standing around isn’t your plan.”

Idle/Waiting 2: “We’re not done here, ah’ra. Let’s keep moving.”

Witnessing Tiergan KO: “What?!”

Reviving Tiergan: “No, not yet! Not until I get my turn…”

Being Revived: “Not going to let me live this down, are you?”

Finishing Dungeon: “We need to do this more often, ah’ra. It’s always exciting to watch you work.”

Zaius would always party with Tiergan when offered the opportunity. The two have known each other for years, and the Keeper wastes no chance to compete with, or against the fellow former gladiator. If there’s one thing he enjoys more than fighting with Tiergan, it’s against him. Despite the clear, if strange animosity and rivalry between each of them, their knowledge of one another’s fighting styles and mindset means they work together extremely well in combat. Assuming of course that rivalry doesn’t take hold in the middle of the dungeon. That would be a problem.

________________________

[zaiusrhalseer]

My Turn!

Zaius Rhal’seer and Aulen Mistbreaker have joined your party!

Beginning Dungeon: “Another invitation?”

Assisting: “You just want to watch, that’s all.”

Being Assisted: “..tch. Suppose I shouldn’t waste all this fire.”

Idle/Waiting 1: “Surely you haven’t had enough yet?.”

Idle/Waiting 2:“If we stop now, so does the fun.”

Witnessing Aulen KO: “I suppose with the lance, I should have expected this…”

Reviving Aulen: “Should have brought a healer.”

Being Revived:“Ngh…that one is stronger than he looks. Good.”

Finishing Dungeon: “I have to wonder how much longer you’ll be satisfied with just watching, Aulen. Until next time.”

Zaius met Aulen Mistbreaker in the past, and was reintroduced to him a few months ago. Within a few weeks of that, Aulen had asked Zaius to aid him with a leve involving some bandits. Expecting a formidable force, having heard of Aulen’s skill, he was surprised to find the two of them tearing the bandits apart with little difficulty, to the point Zaius let one flee when it was clear he was no match for either he or Aulen.Realizing the other had actually asked him there to watch him fight, Zaius was amused, and intrigued. After some more discussion, he offered his services should Aulen ever need ‘help’ again, and would be pleased that the other had found them some tougher foes, joining his party without hesitation.

(Send an ask with ‘My Turn!’ to see how much of an ass Zaius will be in YOUR Trust Party!)

[zaiusrhalseer]

My turn!

Zaius Rhal’seer and Reks Blanc have joined your party!

Beginning Dungeon: “Hah, what, am I the last Agent left?”

Assisting: “Kita would never forgive me.”

Being Assisted: “This is hardly fair. For them.”

Idle/Waiting 1: “It’s not our job to sort out the dead and dying, Reks.”

Idle/Waiting 2: “We’re standing and they’re not. That’s all there is.”

Witnessing Reks KO: “…tch, of course they go after the healer.”

Reviving Reks: “This is not my strong suit, Reks.”

Being Revived: “This is…humbling.”

Finishing Dungeon: “You’re not as soft as I’d thought. Interesting. Let me know if you need someone to carve a bloody swath in front of you again, Reks.”

Zaius and Reks have rarely encountered one another either in the field or at the Agents’ base of operations…as Zaius rarely is either of those places. For his part, the Keeper knows Reks only be reputation, which he would admit to be impressive. The chirurgeon is the primary healer, as far as Zaius knows, for the entire company, but his ability to avoid damage in full out combat, and deal it, would be something Zaius would need to discover.

As focused on the physical as he is, it never hurts to know someone that is skilled at fixing wounds, and he’s well aware of it. Partying with Reks would be an interesting experience, and potentially benefit him in the long run.

[tiergan-vashir]

RP Moments during Stormblood

@locke-rinannis @mischiefandmystics @zaiusrhalseer @berrodtherapscallion

[tiergan-vashir]

Lust, Love, and Madness

I.

Tiergan let out a sudden burst of low, amused laughter, silver-limned eyes gleaming with savage delight and keenly mirrored desire.  He was at Zaius’ throat in an instant, pinning the man to the floor, leaving a rough, heated trail of kisses from the corner of the Keeper’s jaw down to one shoulder where Tiergan’s fangs bit in deep.  They were two beasts tearing at one another in their longing, fierce and all-consuming. Every battle of wills, every struggle for conquest - all of it serving as a wild, vicious foreplay between them, just as it always had been.

Calloused hands traveled over plains of heavy, battle-hewn muscle before Tiergan suddenly gripped the side of Zaius’ face. His alabaster stare was still radiant, frenzied, and alive, even as the rest of his expression seemed to sober.  He lifted his other hand to stroke at the Keeper’s cheek - a tender echo to the same motion Zaius had done just minutes prior.   His voice came as a quiet murmur.

“We’re going to wind up killing one another some day, Rhal’seer.”

“Yes.”  Zaius growled and Tiergan could feel it deep in the massive Keeper's chest. “I know.”

II.

"What do you dream of me doing, ral'ha?"  The words came as a deep rumble, breathed against sensitive skin.

Zaius found he had not expected ...this.  Had not expected Tiergan to find confidence and take possession of the moment, commanding it as surely and skillfully as he did a battlefield.  Golden eyes swept over Tiergan's naked form, every inch of it a work of art.  The swell of powerful muscle; the hungry, half-hooded white eyes; the scars earned in battle... yes.

This Tiergan - the predator, the hunter, the prey - all of them at once. This was the Tiergan that Zaius would kill for.

Would die for.

What did he dream of Tiergan doing?

"Everything," Zaius hissed.

@zaiusrhalseer

[tiergan-vashir]

I need to paint a Sin Eater Tiergan as soon as I have time again. (Also a horrifying Sin Eater @zaiusrhalseer over a sad AU headcanon he threw at me.)

[tiergan-vashir]

Now that it is officially January 1st. Time to get mushy.

Quick shout out to all of you in @astraladvent. I know I can sometimes get super quiet when my RL ramps up, but you all have been the kindest and most lovely people. Each one of you helped in your own way to create a safe, comfortable space that enabled me to recover from past trauma related to this game and reclaim RP as a beloved hobby again.

I was so riddled with such intense fear and anxiety in the beginning when I first joined that I don’t think I could have recovered the way i have with any other FC. You’re a bunch of sweethearts. I can’t wait to RP and play with y’all in 2019.

@berrodtherapscallion - I already did my new year emotional blaughging at how much grateful and appreciative I am of you on Discord, but I’m doing it again here. You were the exact right person I needed to be there during one of the darkest points of my life and I will always remember it, because I can say with absolute certainty that it was the pivotal moment that turned me away from a place of trauma, loss, and pain - and towards a path to recovery, therapy, and healing. 

Everything in my life that came after was like slowly walking step by step out of darkness into the light, and it was all because you took my hand, picked me up, and pointed me in the right direction. Thank you for being there and thank you for being an awesome badass.

@multi-bear @wrathofthebitchqueen @portalroulette @zaiusrhalseer @honhonoura @etherelle-ffxiv @xhazi @diskwrite-ffxiv @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast @multi-swarm @dellebecque @limerentghost @jancisstuff @mirkemenagerie @eorzeas-top-model @faolanwoodlock - You fantastic collection of glorious nerds. I am so happy and blessed to have each of you around to call my friends. No matter how much or how little we get to talk/RP, no matter how short or long the span of time I’ve had to get to know each of you, I just wanted to say that I’m so incredibly grateful that each of you are here and your presence is so very appreciated.  

Whether you know it or not, in your own unique ways you helped me build confidence in myself, in my ability to RP and write narratives, in my ability to be creative, in my ability to slowly trust in people, share parts of myself, and believe in the goodness of others.

I feel like at the same time Tiergan was slowly learning how to open himself up to other people and that friendships could exist without resulting in terrible pain or a horrible price - I was learning the same thing through each of you and it has helped me bloom as a person in ways I am so grateful for.  Thank you for being kind. For being hilarious. For saying supportive words. For being full of memes. For sharing horrible, cursed images. For listening while we vent to each other about life’s frustrations. For chatting all the time or popping up every once in a while to say hello. For linking cute animals or uplifting news articles. For sharing in your art and your stories.

For being the good person that you are.  Happy New Year.