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thepensword

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thepensword last won the day on June 5

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About thepensword

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  1. Here's your chance to become a non player character

    @Fullmetal Sorcereroh my god yes of course that's perfect
  2. giving myself up

    a reply because i am legitimately choked up right now: you have always sounded like you even when i did not know your voice. if you had asked me then what i thought you sounded like, i would have said i did not know, and that would be the truth. i didn't then, and i'm not sure i remember now, but the voice that is queenie is queenie's voice even when voiceless. i don't remember gasping. i'm sure that i did. not from shock but from excitement. my heart was pounding then, too. i am terrified of phone calls, especially with all of you who i have never met. but i do not remember gasping because queenie's voice is so present that even voiceless i know less what it sounds like and more what it feels like, because queenie is queenie who is kind and sarcastic and casually calls me "sweetie" or "babe". i used to be afraid to share my face, to share my name. trust is a gift that cannot be rescinded. but i gave you my trust and you gave me yours back with face and voice and name and that is precious, queenie, as you are precious, as the others precious, as this will always be precious to me. and even if i do not know you and perhaps never will, i feel that i do. none of you will know the red of my cheeks when it's hot out or my expression when concentrating, teeth biting lips or tongue sticking out. none of you will know the pictures on my bedroom walls and the silent sound of my laughter when i am laughing at my hardest. you will not know these things about me, and i will not know these things about you, but you know already the inner monologue that becomes text on the off-black discord wall and i know your monologues. i know your voices. i know you and i love you.
  3. giving myself up

    queenie oh my god this is so sweet i'm crying i love you so much
  4. the one who tamed the wolf

    @queenie_flower ok fine i'll accept that but you're on thin fucking ice (i'm kidding of course i love you queenie)
  5. the one who tamed the wolf

    @queenie_flower ok so first i'm not whether i should be offended or flattered but probably both and more importantly, second, since when do you have tumblr????
  6. the one who tamed the wolf

    There was a beast in the woods. Every night, its chilling cries soared above the trees to claw at the moon, and every night the townspeople shuddered with fear. “Stay inside,” said the mother to her child, or the young man to his lover. “Stay inside when the sun dips below the horizon. Stay inside and be wary of that which lies in the darkness.” The people heeded this, for the most part. But sometimes, sometimes, someone would grow careless, or reckless, or simply forget. ~~~ “I will slay the wolf,” said the young woodcutter to his master. “I have grown strong and my axe is sharp. I will release us from the clutches of fear.” And his master shook his head and begged him to stay, but his apprentice would not be swayed. He entered the woods as the sun dipped low, the world cast into shades of purple and gold, and that is the last he was ever seen. His mother wept at his loss and the townspeople held their children close. ~~~ “Do not go into the woods,” warned the baker of the young woman who planned to go searching for berries that day. “Stay in the meadows, and be home before dark.” “I know,” said the young woman, and did as she was bade, but as the day lengthened and her basket filled with the bright red of berries, she lost track of time and found herself alone at the edge of the wood as the sun began to set. The next morning, her lover found her basket lying solitary at the edge of the meadow, stained with a red that was not just berry juice. ~~~ “Do not go into the woods,” said the townspeople. “Beware the wolf.” ~~~ She came at the end of summer. She was old and wizened, her face lined like a canyon and her hair like woven silver, but she carried herself with a dignity that belied her wisdom and experience. The townspeople welcomed her honorably and offered her a place to spend the night, but she merely smiled at them and told them she had business to attend to. “Surely not at night,” said the townspeople, and when her smile did not falter, they hastened to warn her. Stay inside. Do not go into the forest. There’s a monster in that forest. “I have business to attend to,” repeated the woman, and she would not be stopped. The people watched her go with sadness, for they knew they would never see her again. But the woods did not ring with wolf-song that night, and the moon was pale instead of yellow. ~~~ “Come home,” whispered the woman, unafraid of the snarling beast that poised to strike before her. “It’s been too long already. Please, it’s time to go home.” The shadows lengthened and an owl called in the distance, and as the night filled with magic the beast faded away. The woman held out her hand and the fingers that met it were human. She looked into the deep eyes of man she had once called her son and smiled a small, sad smile. ~~~ When morning came, the townspeople opened their doors with heavy hearts, but the sight they were met with was a remarkable one. The woman was alive, untouched and smiling, and she was hand in hand with a tired man whose eyes were ringed with purple shadow. “What did you do?” asked the townspeople. “What about the wolf?” The woman bowed her head and squeezed her son’s hand tightly. “Oh,” she said. “You will no longer need to worry about the wolf.” And her words rang with truth, because the wolf’s cry was never heard again.
  7. Overheard Quotes

    "God I gotta do something about all these ones in my wallet" "Go to a strip club"
  8. Here's your chance to become a non player character

    Angler. Real-life Pinterest Shopkeep. Human. Ambiguous age. A very eclectic sort of person, Angler has been in the town for longer than most can remember. In fact, they have only been here for a little over 20 years, but they have become such a feature in the town that everyone's memory has grown selective and people are always doubtful when thinking of a time in which Angler was not a resident. Their shop is an interesting place full of anything and everything, but mostly they deal in ideas. Their shelves are lined with bottles and parchments and also some very nice bargain craft supplies, and they will welcome you in with a smile and a cup of tea. Be wary, however; do not wake their cat, for it is older even then they and are the cruelty and scorn to their hospitable welcomes.
  9. Here's your chance to become a non player character

    Brandy. 73. Human. Wizard. Once upon a time he was powerful. Now he runs a clothing shop. Well, "runs" is a loose term. Mostly he sleeps in his chair and trusts his well-cast spells to keep people from taking things without depositing the proper payment in the money jar. He wears nothing but his robes (which are nearly as old as he is and are beginning to show it) and various pairs of brightly colored socks. The socks are the pride of his collection and are horrendously overpriced, so no one ever buys them. This is a clever but transparent ploy to hoard them all for himself.
  10. Here's your chance to become a non player character

    Dragonfly. Tiefling. 25. Technically a bard but she's tone-deaf so she's not a very good bard. Currently works at a tavern as a waiter. Occasionally pulls out her lute, stands on a table, sings as loudly as she can, and then gets put on cleaning duty for the night and told in no uncertain terms not to do it again. Has been fired and re-hired like a bajillion times.
  11. continental drift

    there is an entire science to the tectonic plates. but we are not continents, so why are you so far away?
  12. there's something about brand new bright red converse that just instills confidence in a person

    1. queenie_flower

      queenie_flower

      Yes that’s my girl go take over the fucking world.

  13. Some Angsty Shit

    *hugs you*
  14. Week of 5/7: CICADA-scope

    the time for WHAT
  15. thoughts on a history

    when do prayers become bedtime stories, when do holidays become histories? when is candlelight a memory? why must star necklace become a weapon? why do i nail blue glass to wood frame, and do it because i feel i have something to prove? (why do open doors become silent thieves, why must i resent what i should welcome? when does adopted bird become unwelcome cuckoo, resting in my nest of sparrows?) that song is a call above— rather, it is a history. i open my arms and welcome you, but inside i ask myself cruel, unfair questions. there are my ancestors, heads bowed in forbidden temples. where are your ancestors? where is your history? i clutch my necklace and my histories and i cannot stop the beat of my heart that turns your words into lies. why must your presence turn me into the liar? (this is not a torah but a history book. this is not a religion but an identity. i am defensive of that which i should not be, there is bitterness in my welcomes.) i wish i could greet you warmly. (i am sorry that i cannot.)
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