Posted 2 hours ago | 24 notes | Reblog
#powers 

There was a story under every roof, she knew. She knew all about stories. But those down there were the stories that were never to be told, the little secret stories, enacted in little rooms …
They were about those times when medicines didn’t help and headology was at a loss because a mind was a rage of pain in a body that had become its own enemy, when people were simply in a prison made of flesh, and at times like this she could let them go. There was no need for desperate stuff with a pillow, or deliberate mistakes with the medicine. You didn’t push them out of the world, you just stopped the world pulling them back. You just reached in, and … showed them the way.

Terry Pratchett, Carpe Jugulum (via gadding-about)

(Source: 3parts)

Posted 8 hours ago | 985 notes | Reblog
#the hobbies 

art-of-swords:

Khanjar Dagger

  • Dated: 18th century
  • Culture: Indian (Mughal)
  • Measurements: overall length 40.5 cm

 The dagger has a straight, double-edged, Damascus steel blade, grooved at the centre and slightly strengthened at the tip. It features a beautiful, dark green jade grip with an angled pommel, chiselled with floral motifs at the edge and enriched with rubies framed with yellow gold.

The silver-plated wooden scabbard is engraved and decorated at the upper parts with a bas-relieved garland and a band featuring an inscription in Arabic. There’s also a shell-shaped tip, a decorated suspension ring and remains of gilding.

For similar, jade grips decorated with hard stones and gold, see “Islamic and Oriental Arms and Armour” by Robert Hales, pages 18-27. Also, this is interesting and rare blade, almost straight, has an unusual length considering the type of dagger.

Source: Copyright © 2014 Czerny’s International Auction House S.R.L.

Posted 10 hours ago | 7,399 notes | Reblog
#the house 
high resolution →

(Source: dailydoseofstuf)

Posted 1 day ago | 16 notes | Reblog
#mannerisms #the hobbies 

There is no possible way that she would ever put poison in anything. Not out of respect for me, you understand, but out of respect for the food.

Vetinari, Unseen Academicals by Terry Pratchett  (via justatriflewicked)

Posted 2 days ago | 867 notes | Reblog
#yoggy 

You’ve got lots of things in your head. That doesn’t mean they aren’t real.

Granny Weatherwax, ‘The Wee Free Men’ (via quintisavirginix)

(Source: nate25percent)

Posted 2 days ago | 21 notes | Reblog
#Tae'thelan Bloodwatcher 
taethelan sent: In a quiet little inn in Quel'thalas's back streets, a weary-looking magister slides onto a bar stool next to you and rests his head in his hands for a moment before forcing himself to straighten up. His long blond hair looks limp, and he takes his monocle out and pockets it with a sigh. He turns to you and attempts a smile. "It's been a long day."

taethelan:

tentaclepriest:

tentaclepriest:

Rythien Dawnhallow doesn’t generally stop for a drink on his way home from the auction house. Well…he doesn’t stop for many drinks. One or two is his limit, since staggering home drunk tends to make his husband fret. So normally, he passes the inns right by—but between the heat of the day, his heavy robes, and the fact that he’s been on his feet for much longer than he should be, he could really use a drink. He’s sipping a glass of whiskey, briefcase leaning against his leg, when the magister sits down next to him.

For a few moments, Ryth just looks at him warily. He doesn’t mingle with the upper crust, but he knows magisterial robes when he sees them. And not a damn one of ‘em has ever stopped looking down their noses at us. But the guy looks tired, and something about his expression kicks Ryth’s conscience in the seat of the pants until it trundles to the forefront of his mind.

And so he smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You too, huh? I’ve been trying to sell enchantment scrolls all day; I’d be even happier for the war being over if it didn’t fucking murder my market.”

Ryth’s mood can change like the wind, and Tae’thelan’s question brings a wry little smile to his lips. “Well. I was trained as a healer, originally, but…well, I wasn’t very skilled. My teachers always said I lacked focus.After the Second War…” He shrugs. “I decided to try using the shadow, since the Light clearly wasn’t doing the job for me as far as protecting my friends and family. And then it turned out I was really good at it. I’ve always been telekinetic, which I guess helped.” To illustrate this, he twiddles his fingers and his glass rises an inch or two, albeit slightly wobbly.

He pauses. “Besides, it…has uses. You can heal mental disorders, cure migraines, give people a good night’s sleep, put them under for surgery…yeah, okay, and make brains leak through ears. If you have to.”

Tae’thelan steeples his fingers and asks, very seriously, “Mental disorders? Can you cure being an incorrigible arse? The Magisterium could really do with some professional help.” He giggles at his own joke and pushes his glass towards Ryth. “Here, you should finish this. I don’t think I should have any more.” He turns to the bar. “Barkeep! A bowl of whatever passes as snack food in this fine establishment, if you will.” And then back to Ryth.

"That all sounds exceedingly useful. Why do we not have more of you? Because of the PR issues?"

Ryth clearly doesn’t find that joke as funny as Tae’thelan does, and leaves his glass untouched. “I’d better not; my,”—lover? boyfriend? Shit, right—“My husband will worry if I come home all wobbly.” He pauses. “And I think your question falls squarely in the ‘unethical’ category, no matter how much I’d like to go through some of those narrow minds with a sledgehammer.”

The bartender wastes no time before plonking a bowl of hard pretzel sticks on the bar between them. Ryth takes one and gestures with it as he talks. “Yeah, that and the whole…well, okay. You’ve got to understand that ethics are really important? Power corrupts, and nothing gives you more of that I-am-a-god feeling than rummaging through someone’s brain. And since Shadow is easiest to call upon by those dealing with negative emotions, a lot of shadow-wielders either are insane or evil to start with, or they turn out that way after a few decades. To be a successful shadow priest requires…”

He pauses to bite the pretzel stick in half, chewing it as he thinks and swallowing before he talks. “Ironclad mental and emotional fortitude. More than arcane magic, more than fel, even more than using the Light itself. Shadow has teeth, and it bites.”

Posted 2 days ago | 1,136 notes | Reblog
#shadows 

SHADOW PRIESTS BE LIKE

wowreactions:

image

Posted 3 days ago | 20 notes | Reblog
#mannerisms #Ryth no 

Nijel was one of those people who, if you say ‘don’t look now,’ would immediately swivel his head like an owl on a turntable. These are the same people who, when you point out, say, an unusual crocus just beside them, turn around aimlessly and put their foot down with a sad little squashy noise. If they were lost in a trackless desert you could find them by putting down, somewhere on the sand, something small and fragile like a valuable old mug that had been in your family for generations, and then hurrying back as soon as you hear the crash.

Sourcery by Terry Pratchett (via essential-terry-pratchett-quotes)

Posted 4 days ago | 57 notes | Reblog
#mannerisms 

Angua seemed to have taken this case personally. She always had a soft spot for the underdog.
So did Vimes. You had to. Not because they were pure or noble, because they weren’t. You had to be on the side of underdogs because they weren’t overdogs.

Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay (via randombrethren)

Posted 5 days ago | 310,815 notes | Reblog

Reblog if you have a scar with a story behind it.

(Source: birdsorthebeez)

Posted 5 days ago | 18 notes | Reblog
#the hobbies #mannerisms 

Munstrum Ridcully, Archchancellor of Unseen University, was a shameless autocondimentor.* He had his own special cruet put in front of him at every meal. It consisted of salt, three types of pepper, four types of mustard, four types of vinegar, fifteen different kinds of chutney and his special favorite: Wow-Wow Sauce, a mixture of mature scumble, pickled cucumbers, capers, mustard, mangoes, figs, grated wahooni, anchovy essence, asafetida and, significantly, sulfur and saltpetre for added potency. Pidcully inherited the formula from his uncle who, after half a pint of sauce on a big meal one evening, had a charcoal biscuit to settle his stomach, lit his pipe, and disappeared in mysterious circumstances, although his shoes were found on the roof the following summer.


*Someone who will put certainly salt and probably pepper on any meal you put in front of them whatever it is and regardless of how much it’s got on it already and regardless of how it tastes. Behavioural psychiatrists working for fast-food outlets around the universe have saved billions of whatever the local currency is by noting the autocondimenting phenomenon and advising their employers to leave seasoning out in the first place. This is really true.

Reaper Man, Terry Pratchett (via letao)

Posted 5 days ago | 6 notes | Reblog

taethelan:

tentaclepriest:

taethelan:

((And Tae’s all like “You don’t have servants to do that for you? How ghastly. I suppose he has to be eager to please, since he’s dead and reeks of formaldehyde. What a terrible dating handicap.”))

((At this point in the hypothetical conversation, Ryth…actually probably just stares at him for a few beats and then goes “…You do understand what being working-class means, right? It means I can’t afford servants. In this economy I can barely afford steak. And no, he doesn’t smell like formaldehyde, and I’ll thank you not to insult my husband, please.”))

((…or throws his drink in his face, really it could go either way.))

((Drink in the face! He’d totally deserve it if he was really speaking his mind like that. Order a nice red wine first. :D He’d never actually be so terrible in conversation (“I’ll have you know that some of my friends are working class!” *rolls eyes*), but it would be clear that he didn’t approve, lol.))

((“What does he smell like, then?”))

((ahahahaaaa, red wine on FANCY SILK ROBES for maximum embarassing stainings))

((“…Soap, cologne, and booze. He swears it’s a preservative and I’d believe him, except he actually drinks the stuff my brother brews. Which can peel paint. So really he mostly just smells like booze. Oh, and leather. If you know anyone who wears leather armor, tell them to buy from Bill Jameston.” Rythien is the world’s most unsubtle shiller of his lover’s products. And his own. And anyone he happens to know who runs a business.))

Posted 5 days ago | 6 notes | Reblog
#Tae'thelan Bloodwatcher 

taethelan:

tentaclepriest:

taethelan replied to your post “So, how does undead sex work? Anything ever fall off? Isn’t he cold? (VERY MUCH NOT IC)”

((Ha ha ha, Tae would totally wig out if he discovered Ryth was married to an undead.”Why would you defile yourself so?” “How could you possibly choose one of THEM over literally any sin’dorei?” He’d be so distressed XD))

((looooool Ryth would just shrug and be like “Hey, the first time he stayed over he washed the dishes the next morning. VOLUNTARILY.  And he fixes stuff. HE’S A GREAT GUY OKAY.”))

((And Tae’s all like “You don’t have servants to do that for you? How ghastly. I suppose he has to be eager to please, since he’s dead and reeks of formaldehyde. What a terrible dating handicap.”))

((At this point in the hypothetical conversation, Ryth…actually probably just stares at him for a few beats and then goes “…You do understand what being working-class means, right? It means I can’t afford servants. In this economy I can barely afford steak. And no, he doesn’t smell like formaldehyde, and I’ll thank you not to insult my husband, please.”))

((…or throws his drink in his face, really it could go either way.))

Posted 5 days ago | 6 notes | Reblog
#taethelan 

taethelan replied to your post “So, how does undead sex work? Anything ever fall off? Isn’t he cold? (VERY MUCH NOT IC)”

((Ha ha ha, Tae would totally wig out if he discovered Ryth was married to an undead.”Why would you defile yourself so?” “How could you possibly choose one of THEM over literally any sin’dorei?” He’d be so distressed XD))

((looooool Ryth would just shrug and be like “Hey, the first time he stayed over he washed the dishes the next morning. VOLUNTARILY.  And he fixes stuff. HE’S A GREAT GUY OKAY.”))

taethelan sent: So, how does undead sex work? Anything ever fall off? Isn't he cold? (VERY MUCH NOT IC)

((I AM DYING you have killed me with laughter))

Ryth grins; it looks like he’s used to questions like this.

In order: exactly the way it works with a living guy except with way more stamina and higher pain tolerance, no, and yes, but he doesn’t exactly stay cold if you get my meaning.

He shrugs. Besides, I like cold. And the room-temperature thing means I don’t fall over and die of heat afterwards; Light-wielders tend to run hot, and trying to cuddle with the living is pretty much unbearable for me in warm weather.