Tuesday, July 22, 2014

nightsthenightmaren:

lord-reala:

NiGHTS was grossed out. That much Reala had gathered in that half-dazed look at his partner. NiGHTS wasn’t the only one. Reala turned his back to the mess and pulled his blankets up over his shoulder. He was thankful, at least, that he had managed to get none on himself—except for the smear on his gauntlet, but since he put it there, he didn’t count that—though his sheets were not so safe. He had seen the splatter of blood on the gold-lined red and black checks of his comforter.

"No," he answered. A clean-up job was all that he wanted. He didn’t blame NiGHTS for not wanting to touch it himself. Before, he had been in too much pain to want to move, but now, he was just tired. His eyes closed. He was too tired to feel anything more than a faint shame and an odd hollowness all throughout his torso.

NiGHTS quickly left and soon a Shleep came into the general’s room, cleaning up the mess as instructed.  It didn’t look too happy or thrilled about the assignment either, but it made no noises or complaints as it did it’s job.

After the Shleep finished cleaning up the floor, he left, leaving the sheets and comforter alone since Reala seemed to be using them.  NiGHTS returned shortly with a big glass of ice water.

"Doing all right, then?" he asked with some concern as he timidly approached his partner.

Reala looked up when the shleep entered and watched it start to clean, but that’s all he managed before he threw himself back down on the bed.  The sight had made him queasy all over again, if he was honest with himself. He wondered if NiGHTS was coming back. That final show of sick was disgusting; he would have understood if NiGHTS was finished with him until he felt better.

A few short minutes later, almost-surprise that flickered across his face when he heard NiGHTS’s voice. He had come back. Really, Reala shouldn’t have ever doubted his partner, but then again, there was a reason it wasn’t exact surprise. He sat up, but only glanced at NiGHTS long enough to take the glass of water. “I’m in less pain than I was ten minutes ago, if that’s what you mean.” The phrase ‘all right’ was not his first choice to describe his current state. He stared down at the ice. He wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to drink this or not.

Monday, July 21, 2014
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Saturday, July 19, 2014

MBTI most accurate descriptions

woolfhammer:

ESTP: super attractive physically but it’s all downhill from there. never quite know what they’re going to do next but you can probably bet it will be irresponsible. somehow still lovable. 

ESTJ: loud, logical, and get shit done — they are the warrior class of the life rpg. power stats make them unbeatable and if you encounter one, maybe just curl up and forfeit, to save time. 

ESFP: giggly little shits. fun fun fun till her daddy takes the t-bird away. great for lifting your mood, not that great at lifting your credit score. 

ESFJ: too appropriate, totally lacking in awkwardness. they’ll never forget your birthday, which will make you feel like shit when you constantly forget theirs. 

ENTP: excellent companions if you enjoy people who instantly see through all your shit. very clever and very intuitive, you can’t fool them. i suggest you invest in other friends — ones you *can* fool. 

ENTJ: impatient with people who make mistakes, namely, everyone. they’ll respect you if you stand up to them but why do that when you can run away instead. cuddle them and see what happens. i’m curious.

ENFP: too puppy to live. best suited for the profession of musical nanny. not advised for use around an open flame. 

ENFJ: way too charming and capable, maybe they should stop making everyone else look bad. prone to making other people care about stuff they didn’t want to care about. so annoying. 

ISTP: such butts. best suited for an apocalypse scenario, if no such scenario exists, they will create danger because they get bored. don’t encourage them, but don’t discourage them, as reverse psychology works too well.

ISTJ: low drama and low maintenance, best value at this price tier. best suited to actual human existence. least weird, which makes them kinda weird.

ISFP: squishy little darlings you might want to keep in your pocket, but please don’t or they will become forlorn. they notice everything, and it’s unnerving. 

ISFJ: quietly and proudly do things for others. if you have a ring you need to deliver to mordor, take an ISFJ along with you for best results. 

INTP: cute intergalactic spiders you want to hug and mistrust. prone to making you laugh but then days later you will wonder whether you were the butt of the joke. 

INTJ: major dicks and kinda proud of it. prone to being right. prone to liking trance music way too much. all the ones i’ve ever met have been unexpectedly kinky. so i guess, expectedly. 

INFP: they fall out of the sky and are raised by unicorns. if you feed one it will follow you home. they dissipate in water. 

INFJ: chameleons appropriating your emotions and going quietly mad. prone to meltdowns and needing lots of naps.

Friday, July 18, 2014

nidheadcanons:

In contrast to a previous anon’s headcanon, although my Reala also plays the cello, he does not and cannot play by ear. He can and may compose on very very very rare occasion, but having the notes written down is always a necessity regardless. Usually, he finds pieces someone else has made, and if he likes them or finds that they resonate with him, he memorizes them to play later.

nightsthenightmaren:

lord-reala:


Reala kept it down for that instance, but it was a moment to moment battle. His eyes remained shut tight; his breathing stayed heavy; and his hand stayed on his belly. He almost got up at one point, but instead tightened his grip on NiGHTS to stabilize himself. It might have no effect physically, but it was a slight help mentally. He let out a slight moan of displeasure.

They made it to the bedroom, and he released NiGHTS as he was put down and curled up on his side. He remained silent a few more moments, ignoring NiGHTS’s question for the time being, then jolted upright and leaned over the edge of the bed as the day’s food came up in a splurge of crimson blood and torn up flesh. His back heaved as he did, once more and again, and his claws cut into the blankets as he clutched the edge of the bed. A sharp, sour stench overlaid the musty scent of corpses that quickly filled the room.

Even after his stomach had been completely emptied, he remained kneeling there, panting with his knees shaking slightly. Is it over? He waited, but evidently the answer was yes. Eyes slightly dazed, he looked up at NiGHTS with a frown and gave a small cough. Not so bad? he mentally sneered before wiping off his mouth on the underside of his gauntlet, turning away, and throwing himself down on the bed.

On the plus side, if their could be one, his now-empty stomach was in significantly less pain than it had been a very short time ago.

NiGHTS bolted across the room when Reala started vomiting.  In fact, one could wonder if it was even possible for him to be any further away from Reala at the moment without being outside of the room.  His expressive face said it all- he was utterly grossed out by his partner’s actions.  Not that he could blame him; clearly something was wrong. 

"I’ll-uhhhh- I’ll go get a third level to clean up," he offered.  NiGHTS certainly wasn’t going to offer to clean it up and he didn’t particularly even want to be in the room at the moment so it was a good excuse.  "Do you need anything?’ he added as he quickly created a paraloop portal.

NiGHTS was grossed out. That much Reala had gathered in that half-dazed look at his partner. NiGHTS wasn’t the only one. Reala turned his back to the mess and pulled his blankets up over his shoulder. He was thankful, at least, that he had managed to get none on himself—except for the smear on his gauntlet, but since he put it there, he didn’t count that—though his sheets were not so safe. He had seen the splatter of blood on the gold-lined red and black checks of his comforter.

"No," he answered. A clean-up job was all that he wanted. He didn’t blame NiGHTS for not wanting to touch it himself. Before, he had been in too much pain to want to move, but now, he was just tired. His eyes closed. He was too tired to feel anything more than a faint shame and an odd hollowness all throughout his torso.

 
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