Favorite Moments and Quotes

For all of those parts of a thread that make you have feels.

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Muse
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Fri Jan 12, 2018 9:02 pm

Oh, right in the feels!
We've got an LOL Worthy Memoir, but we don't have a spot where we put the words that move us to feel something when we're reading them. We all have that moment when we're reading a thread, whether it's one we're in or one we're just following, where something happens and the words are so beautiful and poignant. Instead of keeping that to youreself, please quote them here and link to the thread where others can read them!

Here, I'll start first:
"I know we shouldn't wait, but I can't help but wanting to ride this feeling. Look at her, Caius..." And then his voice trailed off as he realized that Caius HAD looked at her. He'd seen her when she was angry and upset, when the chemicals in her system were eating her from the inside. He'd seen her at her most vulnerable, overdosed and weak from her sister's torments. And all at once, the dam of Oliver's restraint broke, and he clenched his jaw. As the two men walked, Oliver fell silent, watching instead as Darcyanna's excitement burst forth, radiating enough warmth that it surprised Oliver that the flowers didn't bloom in her presence.

Oliver Venora
The Roses and the Snow
This was the very edge of an emotional moment for Oliver, Darcy, and Caius in their thread together, which sort of can best be described as an intervention gone bad. Anyway, there's a lot contained in those few sentences and it felt very much like the tipping point.
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Djinn
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Fri Jan 12, 2018 11:34 pm

"Good morning," Thomas greeted them, flipping the bacon with a knife piece by piece, "My sweet morning larks, I trust you slept well?" He did not wait for an answer, spearing two pieces of the thick bacon each and laying them on flat wooden plates, seemingly carved from the same set as the spoons and cups, before handing them across the small fire to them. He included the spoons as well and indicated the purple substance, "A yogurt, dairy dish from Athart. Once upon a time it was customary to feed slaves with it, but as flavors were introduced it migrated to becoming a part of the noble cuisine." With a wink he indicated the bread and the cup, "You are familiar with butter, I trust, selected from a dairy farmer friend of mine. I teach his children their letters every twelfth trial and he pays me with his bounty. I have it on good authority the cow who provided this butter is named Mable and she has quite the adventurous personality." Laughter, booming, free, "Appropriate for our morning repast, I think. The jam is a preserve I prepared myself, something of a hobby really, with blackberries and blueberries...a touch of pepper oil for an unexpected kick. I'd very much be interested in your opinions, and the last is also a kind of butter, from ground peanuts. Traditionally this is a Hiladrith staple, but peanuts are not so hard to get hold of if you know the right merchant."

He winked, knowingly, as if the twins had any idea what merchant he referred to. "Finally that drink is a strawberry cordial. There's a monk outside of Khrome who prepares a few bottles from his personal patch. I am told there is no tarter strawberry in all Rynmere, makes for an excellent cordial as I'm sure you'll find." He indicated the half full glass bottle set on the grass near their plates, "Feel free to indulge to your heart's content. We will pack after, strike the camp, and carry on to the belly of the beast." Thomas chuckled, but it was difficult to tell whether he was serious in his warning.

Thomas Theodore Terrance
Ruinfall
I know that this bit seems pretty innocuous, and for the weight and heft of the thread, it probably is, but there is something in how Plague writes the Professor here that has inspired me to take this same approach in my writing. His description of the food, and the story behind each dish, is incredible and makes me want what he is describing.
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Faith
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Favorite Moments and Quotes

Sat Jan 13, 2018 3:01 am

Maltruism wrote:There are many distinctly different envelopes of pain. The type that is granted with a kick to a man's groin is almost taunting in the way it allows a man a few ticks to realize what is about to engulf him. Tork was not looking at Faith as her foot shot out to bring his balls flush with his ass. Even as she started shouting to her partner on the roof, Tork began delivering an order to her to shut up.

It died in a wheezing gurgle as his eyes bugged with the agonized sensation of his entire organ assembly being slowly crushed within a shrinking ribcage. He swayed as if uncertain of which way to fall as color drained from his face. He leaned just little too far out the door and was forced to extend his arm to keep from following Borley's ragdoll tumble into the street.

It seems such a small thing, to extend your arm. But a blow to the groin makes any movement that defies the body's need to curl into a fetal ball an unrelenting damnation. The only upside for Tork was that the severity of the pain made it virtually impossible for the hand that now clenched the rooftop rail to come unclenched, even with his full body weight swinging out to sag against the outer wall of the coach, as it now did.

But he would recover. Tork knew he would. And despite the pain, the resolve to carve his initials into this woman's lungs kept him focused, and promised to be sated in a shrieking fury of blood and ignored pleas for mercy. For now, his own dismal squeal of pain became his focal point as he powered through it with hateful rage, building it slowly back to a roar of vengeance. Maybe Alexander would be denied his own personal vengeance, but Tork told himself that when the old monster learned of the torturous ordeal to which he would now subject this wretched harridan, he too would be satisfied.
You know, speaking as a woman, that might be the closest I've ever come to understanding that. But hey, the feels this gave me? My pc is short, kidnapped and heavily pregnant and when her foot connected I cheered. Somewhere along that description, I started to feel a little bit sorry for the guy. That, is a wordsmith.

Missed Carriage ~ wherein Faith is kidnapped, goes into panic induced labour, fights off three guys despite those two facts (and she's 8 months pregnant), has got PTSD from last time she got kidnapped by the guy who sent these goons and the goon has just told her the plan (turn the baby into undead..... let it make it's own way out).

Oh, and Pad messed around on the roof a bit.... :lol: :lol:
"Every evil has its good, and every ill an antidote."

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Pash Raj'oriq
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Sat Jan 13, 2018 2:11 pm

A little bit of relationship progression between Pash and Kali'rial always turns me into a mushy mess. We've come so far, baby.
Kali'rial wrote:"Nothing good is easy. That's a damned good point. I guess I mustn't be that good, because I must have been so damn easy for you right? Throw a few nice words in, a couple of strokes of your magic, here's a gullible Sev'ryn girl to warm your bed just long enough to be a pleasant distraction. Oh, but then she's become too attached, she's made too much of this little tryst. Better cut it off before she ties you down, you a Biqaj bard sailing the high seas in search of a good time." Her voice bordered on a yell, tears escaping in an infuriating moment of weakness. Cursing in a string of Xanthean, the brunette wiped her cheeks and took another deep breath.


Kali'rial
A nel for your thoughts?
Ymiden 717
And, yeah, we move swiftly here, being wild and free folk:
Kali'rial wrote:”Pash Raj’oriq, áidà, qau'ma. You are so many things to me, my light in the darkness. My beacon of strength. With you, I can face anything. Everything. I want...” Her voice gave out, thick with emotion. Taking another breath, the Sev’ryn closed her eyes and breathed steadily out before opening them again.

”I want to ask you to be my dabi uaya, my bonded. To forever stand as one with me.” As the iyo glowed around them in the night air, Kali’rial looked over the sunkissed face of the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, a tremor catching in her throat.


Kali'rial
Run away with me now
Vhalar 717
Rakahi | Rakahi Pidgin | Common | Xanthean

Because of his Competency in Empathy magic, Pash exudes an aura of calm emotion that is always "on." While it's not strong enough to overcome extreme emotions and it also loses strength the more people he's around, it's still up to you how that affects your character in whatever situation we're in. PM with questions!
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Darcyanna Venora
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Sat Jan 13, 2018 6:50 pm

Caius Gawyne wrote: Whining, Caius leaned back against the carriage's door frame and watched the heat of his breath mingle with his next exhale of reevi smoke, smirking at the cauterizing iron that was brought forth from the fire,

"Faldrun's charred nut sack, is that really—fuck it."

He felt the coachman moving behind him and the young Gawyne willingly submitted to the older man's arms snaking around his cold torso, taking one last, long hit with a fearful glance at the fire, coughing and sputtering his exhale with a groan as he set the cigarette down and let their driver grip his arms, finally meeting Darcyanna's gaze, setting his jaw as if it would matter,

"Go on."
That cursing, I love ST made cursing. This whole thread is one long Caius quote! Brokenness

ETA - MORE THINGS: SAME THREAD.
Caius Gawyne wrote:And in Saun, bogs, it's going to be so damn hot, but in Saun, you're going to be so beautiful. Andaris will be hot and I'm going to be sweaty and I'm sorry, but maybe you won't notice while we say our vows, right? And then I will make you a Gawyne—my Winter Rose instead of Ivory—oops, I'm not supposed to talk about all of this. Shit. I'm too high, right?" He was grinning almost wickedly, irises a honeyed amber and violet. Bringing a bloodied finger to his lips to mock himself into silence, he laughed handsomely and looked away for a moment, chagrined at his own delirious ramblings, the blush blooming across his too pale features hard to hide.
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Muse
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Thu Feb 15, 2018 6:24 pm

A fiery little gem of a quote ...
Aegis wrote:The smell of old, burnt wood lingered in the air, and the snow began to fall in the ruins once more. It was heavy and thick, quickly began to bury it, the heat no longer present. And so, this place, burned to a husk, some were some were saved, some were burned, and all affected, began to be purified by the freshly fallen snow. And there, in the middle of it, a new fiery rose shone in the night, the only blaze around. And that rose by another name was Vega.

-Warmth of Death
This whole thread is excellent, but, this, right here, this made me gasp a little. Very beautifully written, Aegis!

Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse,
And every conqueror creates a muse.

Edmund Waller
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Maltruism
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Wed Apr 25, 2018 10:23 pm

Okay, it may seem a bit self-serving for me to propose an entry from a thread I'm involved in, but it's not my post I'm offering.
It also may seem that I'm just returning the favor of recognition Faith gave me.
But no, that is just coincidence.

Truly, this entire post, where Faith's life is flashing before her eyes, is brilliantly conceived and beautifully written.

But this one passage:
Padraig
My husband. My love.
Mine. I'm so cold, and I'm so sorry.
Will you know I was sorry?
That last line just tears me up every time.
It's an angle of heartbroken regret that isn't often touched on.
Usually, we know there will be another chance to say these kinds of things.
But this perfectly presents the case where the person knows there will be no more chances.
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