Ask me anything

Guild Wars 2 RP - Tarnished Coast Server
Roleplay Characters:
Eve Quinn - Human Thief
Teylan Rionne - Human Warrior
Noelle Qamar Rashid - Human Necromancer
Piper Laurent - Human Guardian
Mikahl Ronvarus - Human Ranger

Open to walk up or planned out RP!
Contact me in game at karlajosephine.2046

Drop a “✉” into my askbox for a written letter from my muse.

asproudasaprince:

askboxmemethings:

image

((Feel free to specify to whom he is writing if your primary blog isn’t the one you want the letter addressed towards!))

(via mapeudeciel)

2 days ago
282 notes
quillpointe:

"We…just continue bein’ who we are,” he’d said with his smile, albeit far more nervous than I’d ever seen it.  “We figure it out on the way.”
"We just…keep going?" I asked. "Just like this?”
"Well, ya’ can call me ‘boyfriend-Mikahl’ now instead of ‘now-Mikahl.’"
I laughed. When I was a girl, from my basement window I’d watch the local children make their way home. It was a tiny thing, about four inches by six, and even on my stepladder I could hardly tell their fancy shoes from the sand. Ten year old children hardly had anything of worth to talk about (“Six, did Danny smell awful today.” When was the last time Rygar sharpened his claws?”), but being the friendless little girl I was, I hung to every meaningless word. 
There was a game they liked to play: something like a game of ‘tag,’ a distraction from the stresses of their grammar school curriculum. The girls would chase the boys, ignorant to their races as much of Lion’s Arch was, and when they caught them, they’d giggle. “Boyfriend!” they’d cheer, and the boy would groan and bite his smile, doomed to taunts and snickers from the little men who managed an escape.
But as the years went on and the children grew older, the game grew more complex. Suddenly, it was the boys who chased the girls. I couldn’t quite keep up, my little stepladder and me, as giggles grew softer and groans disappeared almost completely. I took it they didn’t think to bite their smiles anymore.
It’s still hard for me to separate the title from the game. I still associated it with giggling children, tiny and privileged feet, a game for the walk home from school, something I’d only be able to watch from a basement window. But I’m a long way from that basement now.
“’Kay,” I offered, smile small as the shrug in my shoulder. 
I’ll play.

She said “Kay.”— YESSS.

quillpointe:

"We…just continue bein’ who we are,” he’d said with his smile, albeit far more nervous than I’d ever seen it.  “We figure it out on the way.”

"We just…keep going?" I asked. "Just like this?”

"Well, ya’ can call me ‘boyfriend-Mikahl’ now instead of ‘now-Mikahl.’"

I laughed. When I was a girl, from my basement window I’d watch the local children make their way home. It was a tiny thing, about four inches by six, and even on my stepladder I could hardly tell their fancy shoes from the sand. Ten year old children hardly had anything of worth to talk about (“Six, did Danny smell awful today.” When was the last time Rygar sharpened his claws?”), but being the friendless little girl I was, I hung to every meaningless word. 

There was a game they liked to play: something like a game of ‘tag,’ a distraction from the stresses of their grammar school curriculum. The girls would chase the boys, ignorant to their races as much of Lion’s Arch was, and when they caught them, they’d giggle. “Boyfriend!” they’d cheer, and the boy would groan and bite his smile, doomed to taunts and snickers from the little men who managed an escape.

But as the years went on and the children grew older, the game grew more complex. Suddenly, it was the boys who chased the girls. I couldn’t quite keep up, my little stepladder and me, as giggles grew softer and groans disappeared almost completely. I took it they didn’t think to bite their smiles anymore.

It’s still hard for me to separate the title from the game. I still associated it with giggling children, tiny and privileged feet, a game for the walk home from school, something I’d only be able to watch from a basement window. But I’m a long way from that basement now.

“’Kay,” I offered, smile small as the shrug in my shoulder. 

I’ll play.

She said “Kay.”— YESSS.

4 days ago
3 notes

Anonymous said: ff+Quill

quillpointe:

chaotic-reverie:

quillpointe:

karlajosephine:

quillpointe:

chaotic-reverie:

quillpointe:

chaotic-reverie:

Finally, Mikahl reached Quill’s flat, opening the front door as he entered and set down his belongings.  He peered across the apartment, the two dishes in the dish rack, Franklin the Cat, the strange book on the mattres—
"For fuck’s sake…"
Mikahl opened the window, ready to throw the filthy book out when curiosity sets in.  Franklin and Winter were the only witnesses… maybe the story would be different this time… with less Viktor.

"Oh Gods, Mikahl I’m close," Quill moaned into his ear.
The man persevered, his own body feeling close to completion.  He held to her hands tightly above her head as he increased in pace.  
"Quill, I love ya’ so much…" he muttered in a half moan.
"I love you too, Mikahl…"
This was what he had waited for since he met the redhead and nothing was going to stop him fr—

Mikahl looked up to the sound of the doorknob turning, realizing it was about time Quill would be returning.
"FuckfuckFUCKFUCKFUCK," he panicked to himself, deciding to just throw the book across the floor.

"…um."

Quill blinked at the scene, having guided her door open with the toe of her boot. Franklin sat as though ready to lay eggs on her hardwood floors, eyes for some random spot on her far wall. A familiar satchel sat atop the counter across from her, and an even more familiar face stood by the window with a very familiar gleam in his eye.

Mikahl did something silly again, didn’t he.

She didn’t need to ask. With a sigh, she scanned the ground for whatever it was that thumped against the wall before her entrance. Her apartment was a tiny place, and it didn’t take long to find the black-leather-bound book inches from her feet. “What the fuck?” she asked as she bent, sliding her own leather bag from her shoulder as she took the book by its spine. “Did it bite you or something?” Curiously, she opened it to a random page upon standing.

Mikahl stood up, scratching at the back of his head nervously, “I-I-I-I dunno what that is, it’s been followin’ me ‘round…”  Fuck… Now he sounded crazy, “Shut up, Mikahl…” he mutters quietly to himself.
He could feel a lump in his throat as she turned to a random page.  ’Fuck… please please please please don’t have small words… just have big words she can’t read and for the love of Gods, no pictures…”

Quill glanced up from the open book to the stuttering Mikahl, brows furrowing in some cross between suspicion and amusement. With a snort and a chuckle, she looked back to the pages. “…well damn,” she frowned as she peered into them. “Did you nip this from the Priory library or something?”

Mikahl’s prayer was answered (the family-friendly one, at least) as Quill stumbled upon a particularly wordy pair of pages: nearly single-spaced, no pictures, and text far smaller a size than the children’s books she kept at her bedside. She did recognize one word easily, at least.

"What are you doing in a Priory text?" she asked, still scanning the page.

"Priory.. yeah… yeah… that… Priory."  Mikahl must’ve looked mad to Quill as he tried his best not to break a sweat from anxiety.  "My name’s a really… common Canthan name."  That was an easy lie, but maybe Quill wouldn’t have known better.  Shit, maybe it was a popular Canthan name.

"I… I don’t… yeah, book,"  Mikahl was not the best at lying, especially when his cover was so thin.  

The man squirms a little, trying desperately to change the subject, “Ya’ hungry?”

"Mi-kahl," she tried, a finger for one particular line. It must have looked easier to pronounce than the rest. "Mikahl’s co — consi — cons-eye-der — considerable!" A small victory elbow-pump before continuing. "—considerable le—"

"HEYYYYYYYheyhey, whatcha doin’ Quill?  What ya’ wanna eat t’day?  Anything… anything at all… pancakes, lobsters, steak… dolyak?  We can go buy it right now."  Mikahl was desperate, trying to direct attention away from the filthy book.  What was worse, he didn’t know how dirty the story got…  It sounded like she was reading from a page he didn’t get to.

"What about caviar?  Ya’ like that?  An’ beer, I’ll buy ya’ so much beer….."

"Considerable length," she continued with a furrowed brow, far too used to Mikahl’s obnoxious rambling, "—weird,—" a side note before she resumed, "—sti-stiffened under…under her….” Quill trailed off, holding the book a few inches away as though eying it from afar would help make sense of the words. “…what…the fu…?”

Without hesitation, Mikahl grabbed ahold of the book, throwing it out the already opened window.  He kind of just stares at her quietly for a few moments.
"… Hungry?"

6 days ago
12 notes

Anonymous said: ff+Quill

quillpointe:

chaotic-reverie:

Finally, Mikahl reached Quill’s flat, opening the front door as he entered and set down his belongings.  He peered across the apartment, the two dishes in the dish rack, Franklin the Cat, the strange book on the mattres—
"For fuck’s sake…"
Mikahl opened the window, ready to throw the filthy book out when curiosity sets in.  Franklin and Winter were the only witnesses… maybe the story would be different this time… with less Viktor.

"Oh Gods, Mikahl I’m close," Quill moaned into his ear.
The man persevered, his own body feeling close to completion.  He held to her hands tightly above her head as he increased in pace.  
"Quill, I love ya’ so much…" he muttered in a half moan.
"I love you too, Mikahl…"
This was what he had waited for since he met the redhead and nothing was going to stop him fr—

Mikahl looked up to the sound of the doorknob turning, realizing it was about time Quill would be returning.
"FuckfuckFUCKFUCKFUCK," he panicked to himself, deciding to just throw the book across the floor.

"…um."

Quill blinked at the scene, having guided her door open with the toe of her boot. Franklin sat as though ready to lay eggs on her hardwood floors, eyes for some random spot on her far wall. A familiar satchel sat atop the counter across from her, and an even more familiar face stood by the window with a very familiar gleam in his eye.

Mikahl did something silly again, didn’t he.

She didn’t need to ask. With a sigh, she scanned the ground for whatever it was that thumped against the wall before her entrance. Her apartment was a tiny place, and it didn’t take long to find the black-leather-bound book inches from her feet. “What the fuck?” she asked as she bent, sliding her own leather bag from her shoulder as she took the book by its spine. “Did it bite you or something?” Curiously, she opened it to a random page upon standing.

Mikahl stood up, scratching at the back of his head nervously, “I-I-I-I dunno what that is, it’s been followin’ me ‘round…”  Fuck… Now he sounded crazy, “Shut up, Mikahl…” he mutters quietly to himself.
He could feel a lump in his throat as she turned to a random page.  ’Fuck… please please please please don’t have small words… just have big words she can’t read and for the love of Gods, no pictures…”

6 days ago
12 notes

Anonymous said: ff+Viktor

Upon entering Divinity’s Reach, Mikahl came across the same familiar book blocking his pathway.  His eyes narrowed as he went to pick it up.

The two handsome brothers held to each other, bronze skin against bronze, ebon black hair to light brown.  They were twins but they differed in so many ways:  One was strong, cold, uncaring… the other was a gentler soul, handsome with a nice tight ass.  They—

"NOPE.  NOPENOPENOPE… NOPEEEEEE."  Mikahl threw the book in the air, picking up his pace as he turned toward the Commons.

6 days ago
4 notes

Finally rolled a light armor Mikahl — NO REGRETS.

6 days ago
3 notes

Anonymous said: ✉ : Quillie ~

The letter enclosed would include a drawing of a fish sitting on the edge of a boat.  Said fish is holding a fishing pole while maintaining a stupid grin on its face.  Yes, it’s a fish on a boat fishing.  Perhaps some kind of strange inside joke…

1 day ago
1 note

[Pirating intensifies]

4 days ago
2 notes

Anonymous said: ff+Quill

quillpointe:

karlajosephine:

quillpointe:

chaotic-reverie:

quillpointe:

chaotic-reverie:

Finally, Mikahl reached Quill’s flat, opening the front door as he entered and set down his belongings.  He peered across the apartment, the two dishes in the dish rack, Franklin the Cat, the strange book on the mattres—
"For fuck’s sake…"
Mikahl opened the window, ready to throw the filthy book out when curiosity sets in.  Franklin and Winter were the only witnesses… maybe the story would be different this time… with less Viktor.

"Oh Gods, Mikahl I’m close," Quill moaned into his ear.
The man persevered, his own body feeling close to completion.  He held to her hands tightly above her head as he increased in pace.  
"Quill, I love ya’ so much…" he muttered in a half moan.
"I love you too, Mikahl…"
This was what he had waited for since he met the redhead and nothing was going to stop him fr—

Mikahl looked up to the sound of the doorknob turning, realizing it was about time Quill would be returning.
"FuckfuckFUCKFUCKFUCK," he panicked to himself, deciding to just throw the book across the floor.

"…um."

Quill blinked at the scene, having guided her door open with the toe of her boot. Franklin sat as though ready to lay eggs on her hardwood floors, eyes for some random spot on her far wall. A familiar satchel sat atop the counter across from her, and an even more familiar face stood by the window with a very familiar gleam in his eye.

Mikahl did something silly again, didn’t he.

She didn’t need to ask. With a sigh, she scanned the ground for whatever it was that thumped against the wall before her entrance. Her apartment was a tiny place, and it didn’t take long to find the black-leather-bound book inches from her feet. “What the fuck?” she asked as she bent, sliding her own leather bag from her shoulder as she took the book by its spine. “Did it bite you or something?” Curiously, she opened it to a random page upon standing.

Mikahl stood up, scratching at the back of his head nervously, “I-I-I-I dunno what that is, it’s been followin’ me ‘round…”  Fuck… Now he sounded crazy, “Shut up, Mikahl…” he mutters quietly to himself.
He could feel a lump in his throat as she turned to a random page.  ’Fuck… please please please please don’t have small words… just have big words she can’t read and for the love of Gods, no pictures…”

Quill glanced up from the open book to the stuttering Mikahl, brows furrowing in some cross between suspicion and amusement. With a snort and a chuckle, she looked back to the pages. “…well damn,” she frowned as she peered into them. “Did you nip this from the Priory library or something?”

Mikahl’s prayer was answered (the family-friendly one, at least) as Quill stumbled upon a particularly wordy pair of pages: nearly single-spaced, no pictures, and text far smaller a size than the children’s books she kept at her bedside. She did recognize one word easily, at least.

"What are you doing in a Priory text?" she asked, still scanning the page.

"Priory.. yeah… yeah… that… Priory."  Mikahl must’ve looked mad to Quill as he tried his best not to break a sweat from anxiety.  "My name’s a really… common Canthan name."  That was an easy lie, but maybe Quill wouldn’t have known better.  Shit, maybe it was a popular Canthan name.

"I… I don’t… yeah, book,"  Mikahl was not the best at lying, especially when his cover was so thin.  

The man squirms a little, trying desperately to change the subject, “Ya’ hungry?”

"Mi-kahl," she tried, a finger for one particular line. It must have looked easier to pronounce than the rest. "Mikahl’s co — consi — cons-eye-der — considerable!" A small victory elbow-pump before continuing. "—considerable le—"

"HEYYYYYYYheyhey, whatcha doin’ Quill?  What ya’ wanna eat t’day?  Anything… anything at all… pancakes, lobsters, steak… dolyak?  We can go buy it right now."  Mikahl was desperate, trying to direct attention away from the filthy book.  What was worse, he didn’t know how dirty the story got…  It sounded like she was reading from a page he didn’t get to.

"What about caviar?  Ya’ like that?  An’ beer, I’ll buy ya’ so much beer….."

6 days ago
12 notes

Anonymous said: ff+Quill

Finally, Mikahl reached Quill’s flat, opening the front door as he entered and set down his belongings.  He peered across the apartment, the two dishes in the dish rack, Franklin the Cat, the strange book on the mattres—
"For fuck’s sake…"
Mikahl opened the window, ready to throw the filthy book out when curiosity sets in.  Franklin and Winter were the only witnesses… maybe the story would be different this time… with less Viktor.

"Oh Gods, Mikahl I’m close," Quill moaned into his ear.
The man persevered, his own body feeling close to completion.  He held to her hands tightly above her head as he increased in pace.  
"Quill, I love ya’ so much…" he muttered in a half moan.
"I love you too, Mikahl…"
This was what he had waited for since he met the redhead and nothing was going to stop him fr—

Mikahl looked up to the sound of the doorknob turning, realizing it was about time Quill would be returning.
"FuckfuckFUCKFUCKFUCK," he panicked to himself, deciding to just throw the book across the floor.

6 days ago
12 notes

Anonymous said: ff+Gwen

After a late day at the mill, Mikahl started his walk back to the Reach.  There was nothing out of the ordinary for this stroll until he stumbled across an old diary; a weather torn journal with torn pages and a frayed cover.  Curiosity set in and the man retrieved the book from the side of the trail.

"Gwen," he breathed in, muscles flexing around her body as they slowly became one.
The woman panted, nails scratching along his back with each thrust.  Her once freckled and pale face now red and flushed as she called out his name.
"M-Mikahl." 

Mikahl slammed the book shut, looking around suspiciously.  He narrowed his eyes before throwing the book into the creek.
"Fuckin’ mesmers…"

(( OGOD GWEN SORRY ))

6 days ago
3 notes