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Silva

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Everything posted by Silva

  1. Silva
    Hurt azure, heal vermilion. White - 5 Black - 5 Blue - 10 Silver - 10 Gray - 5 Green - 5 Purple - 5 Violet - 5 Ultraviolet - 4 Orange - 5 Turquoise - 10 Pink - 5 Indigo - 5 Tan - 4 Emerald - 9 Aqua - 10 Azure - 9 Cerulean - 10 Cerise - 6 Amaranth - 5 Viridian - 5 Vermilion - 7 Cyan - 6 Periwinkle - 5
  2. Silva
    Happy Valentine's Day! *digs through the Google Doodle Archive and plays Pangolin Love* Isn't it a little ironic that its acronym is SAD?
  3. Silva

    Random Character Trivia

    Silva commented on AonEne's blog entry in Words With Ene

    What about in mini chocolate chip cookies? Are they okay then? *wonders how this information might be able to be utilized by Eiran Sullivan as blackmail material/form of torture/avoiding awkward social situation/something else productive*
  4. Silva
    Then it pounced ferociously.
  5. Silva
    What did shades of red ever do to you? Hurt Aqua, heal Vermillion. White - 5 Black - 5 Blue - 10 Gold - 4 Silver - 7 Gray - 5 Green - 5 Purple - 5 Violet - 5 Ultraviolet - 5 Orange - 5 Turquoise - 9 Pink - 5 Brown - 5 Indigo - 5 Tan - 5 Magenta - 3 Emerald - 9 Aqua - 9 Azure - 6 Cerulean - 6 Cerise - 5 Amaranth - 5 Viridian - 5 Vermilion - 6 Cyan - 6 Periwinkle - 5
  6. Silva
    Young celery sprang away.
  7. Silva
    "Thank you, Tels," Pry said, curtly. Freedom looked at Pry. Her older sister still remained tense, but she thought she saw the slightest loosening. Maybe it was her imagination. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Bob," she told the bounty hunter. "And I hope your reputation doesn't lie." Because if you are considering deceiving us in any capacity, I will make sure your ego won't be the only thing that pays the price. She took out her phone and snapped a picture of Bob before he had a chance to protest. That, she sent to Compile along with the message, We're all here. Now talk, please. The response came immediately. Promise me you won't rashly go to the front door and try to do a hostage exchange. Not your business, Freedom texted. Do you want to know where Crow is or not? It was clear that Compile wasn't playing games. She would have to agree or waste time through other methods. Fine. I promise I won't go rashly to the front door and try to do a hostage exchange. She replied, carefully leaving in a loophole. Compile caught it immediately. Or thinking you're right in the head. No trying to give yourself in exchange for their freedoms. I promise. Freedom reluctantly wrote. Dove Manor. texted Compile. "Anyone know where Dove Manor is?" Freedom asked. The name seemed almost like a joke. A crow living in a place called dove. Evil with peace. Two opposites constantly battling for the top spot. Ruin and Preservation, but with no hope of Harmony.
  8. Silva
    All those things sounded terribly immoral to Aderet. Concern crossed over her face as the realization hit her. He was a hopeless case. So hopeless he couldn't even recognize any faults he had that weren't actually strengths. And it pained her. The way he talked calmly about using an Investiture eating plague. The way he claimed he wasn't a politician when all he was doing was what politicians did: lie so convincingly that they convince themselves. The way he incessantly insisted that she was wrong constantly. Even when she feigned to agree with him, he was looking for an enemy. Paranoia. All these plans for invasion. What of preventing invasion preemptively? A victim, likely. Utilizing the methods that would have saved him back when he was endangered, not seeing the smarter alternatives. Simpler alternatives. Safer alternatives. Unstable. But she couldn't even tell him that or he'd dive into another monologue on how perfect he was. He couldn't stand being anything but right. And she hated it. Hated how she wasn't sure what to do. Hated how she was just sitting there instead of acting. Acting. Hated how emotional she was getting over this. Then, instead of replying with words, she burst into tears.
  9. Silva
    1. It's the thing where the villain has the traits the author dislikes in themself. I really only hate her because she's so much like how I act IRL. Insufferable, but makes good points. 2. That's tough. Maybe לעלות (la-ah-lote), to go up. Or חן (chein), favor/grace. Both are nice. 3. All of them are wonderful in their own ways, you know? The Yins and the Tacets both took in this mess of a girl and loved her. The Doves were great in their own way. I guess the Tacets maybe? 4. This one's easier. Acutes. Every time. I love the Wereds too; they just aren't as individual as the Acutes since they haven't been around as long as their cousins. 5. Ah!!!!! Ene, why? Acutes, though. Inden, Nola, Pry, Light, Precious, Freedom, Unity, Brethren, Dawn, Lineage, Compile, Warmer, and Eon--I storming know them all by heart. Is that sad?
  10. Silva
    Pry stayed where she stood, watching the two men. Her heart pounded. Only years of training kept her from jumping at them and demanding they tell her exactly what was going on. She didn't like the look of either of them. Climbing in through the window after Tels, Freedom surveyed the scene. Standing there was a man. Definitely not the type Compile ought to have been hanging out with. Then again, Freedom thought, walking over to Tels. I'm one to talk. She kept just as strange, if not stranger, company. Compile, at least, didn't randomly meet up with a member of the Ghostblood triarchy. "I'm glad to hear that my little sister is doing well." Pry warily looked at her, to Tels, then to the other man, then back at her. Freedom gave her a smile, trying to convey that at least Tels was trustfully. Even gladder to see you in one piece, random guy. She made eye contact with the visitor. "Now, why exactly are you here? I want an answer before I'll call Compile. For all we know you were sent by Crow to learn what we know. Yeah, Compile sent you, but I need a little more than that." "Both of you," Pry cut in. Her eyes were pinned on Tels. "You're not off the hook either." Freedom gave Tels a sympathetic look. I told you so.
  11. Silva
    And his pet rock.
  12. Silva
    I've got nothing more than גם זו לטוב to say. Life will get better. Sometimes it just takes a while. *hugs* Hopefully by this point you're feeling better, but if not consider this: In not that long, that number will have no value. The difference between a 3.95 and a 4.0 will mean nothing. What matters is that you know that you are capable because that is what allows you to remain capable. No number or physical validation. Just your brain. You.
  13. Silva
    Pry stood in the doorway. She'd unlocked the door after finally managing to convince herself that Freedom had not been kidnapped to allow her an easier reentrance. Afterwards, she'd tried the go back to sleep. When the door creaked open, she'd bolted right back up and tiptoed over to welcome her sister back and have her explain where she'd been. Instead she spotted this guy acting like he had every right to be there. There was a moment where she considered getting Tino or Juon to help kick him out. She realized, however, that that would also mean admitting to waking up to checking up on Freedom and being the paranoid mess she was trying to convince them that she wasn't. Getting people was out. This was her mess to deal with. So she stayed quiet as he sat down and pulled out his map and drink. "Where are these people that girl said would be here?" the man said suddenly, "or had she just led me on one big goose chase, and crow is still in Scadrial?" "Crow?" Pry said, startled. The name escaped her lips before she got herself back under control. Knowing he'd whirl around and see her at any moment, she tried to look slightly less disheveled in her pajamas and slouch a little. People said Compile looked like she did fifteen years ago--large eyes and the same almost stick straight hair. Pry disagreed--there was a family resemblance, but nothing more. "Sure," Freedom said, hiding her surprise that he too was Invested. It had never come up and she'd always assumed otherwise. "He should be at 17 Left Right Alley, TUBA Sector." She bit her lip before mentioning the last important thing. "Quick warning, though--my oldest sister might be on warpath. Try not to think much of it. She's taken things a little harder than the rest of us, if that makes sense."
  14. Silva
    The intended snowflake mourned the destroyed snokeflakes.
  15. Silva
    "Maybe, maybe not," Freedom said. She fell silent for a moment. It was strange to think about a future that far in advance, when someone might look to her for advice and not the other way around. Thankfully, she knew, it would be the very distant future. If she even managed to live that long. Given the way buildings had been exploding over the past two years, she was due for another near death experience any day now. She tried to push aside the thought with logic. Near death experiences were not predictable or they wouldn't be near death experiences most of the time. So, too, no reason to worry about them because it wouldn't do anything. Either they'd happen, or they wouldn't. Worrying just meant suffering twice. "You never have managed to share those combat techniques of yours that you speak so highly of," Freedom noted with a raised eyebrow. "There always seems to be a tangential topic that arises."
  16. Silva
    Far as I can tell, only Vocabulary.com and Urban Dictionary spell it like one word. Merriam-Webster uses the hyphenated version as does Dictionary.com, Wikipedia, and countless others. In addition, there's a third possibility as well: role playing, that is found on Google and Collins English Dictionary. This isn't a simple question at all due to the many variants of the word. However, I believe I must say no on this one because It would feel heretical to disagree with Merriam-Webster. (But you're not a weirdo, Ene!) Also this: https://www.enworld.org/threads/roleplay-role-play-or-role-play.59043/ The abbreviation argument is a pretty good one. Role-play has more of a right to abbreviate to RP than roleplay Though, their poll leans your way.
  17. Silva
    They needed to nuke a snowflake in Antarctica.
  18. Silva
    Dated
  19. Silva
    No one was quite sure where he got the blood.
  20. Silva
    Eve had opened her mouth to reply to Lena, but snapped it shut as the marine lumbered back past them. He scared her. Really scared her. It wasn't just the height, looming over her--she was used to people being taller than her--it was the combination of that and just his overall aesthetic, to her embarrassment. Normally people like that didn't faze her. Maybe it was related to the fact that she'd always sort of questioned the truth of historical accounts including Space Marines. Giant hulking warriors felt too outlandish to be actual thing. Investiture ruled the spot in her heart as ultimate evil--not space techy killers. Those felt like an enemy that could be taken down easily through speed and strategy. Looking at one now proved how wrong that dismissal had been. How horribly horribly wrong. She, Eve Tacet-Yin-Dove, had no chance against a marine like that. There was an aura around him emanating to just cower then and there and not even bother resisting. Why even try? She swallowed heavily and forced herself to look away in an attempt to regain her confidence. He remained in her peripheral vision, a couple feet away, and her pounding heart refused to calm down. "Yes, definitely," she told Lena, mostly to prove to herself that there was not a frog caught in her throat preventing her from speaking.
  21. Silva
    The gate clanged shut. Compile didn't look behind her, knowing she wouldn't see anyone following her. At her open window, she jumped, caught the sill, then hoisted herself the rest of the way up. She then picked up Precious' phone and texted Freedom. Guy to help coming to apartment. ETA soon. When with, will tell you where Crow is. Do what I can't, please. -Compile. Afterwards, she wrote a quick message to her parents that she slid under their door. I took care of yesterday's visitor. He shouldn't be back anytime soon. -C They'd be able to take it however they wished. Most likely, they wouldn't even ever mention it. She didn't care about getting thanked--she just cared about getting things done. Compile crept back to her room and clambered back into bed. As she drifted off she realized that messaging Pry as well might have been a good idea. She dismissed the thought, taking her five and a half year old right of prioritizing naptime. "And hope they weren't paid to keep their mouths shut or feed us false information," Freedom mused. Her phone buzzed once, tipping her off that it wasn't Pry freaking out. Her older sister never did things in only one message. "One second," she told Tels. She took out the phone. The message clamed to be from Precious, but the snippet of the message didn't sound like her. Freedom pulled it fully open. "Of course," Freedom said, looking to Tels. "My five year old sister confined on Scadrial knows where Crow is before anyone else figures out and has decided to pull a powerplay on us. Go back to the apartment and buddy up with someone she's sent or try to find Crow ourselves with the scraps we have. I guess that decides where we're headed?" Her phone started buzzing incessantly. It appeared that Pry had found her note.
  22. Silva
    Mopey
  23. Silva
    Knoll
  24. Silva
    Some of the vulgar language was in the language of the breadmunks.
  25. Silva
    She smiled genuinly and a light peal of laughter escaped her lips. The new strategy had made some ground after all. "Thank. Harmony," she said. "Finally, we are getting somewhere!" Aderet pushed her chair back. Its wooden legs squeaked against the floor as she stood up. "Delegating is a great thing. I agree on that. It's a necessity. A capitalistic society requires it. It's a result of social classes developed by gaps in monetary possession. But," Aderet paused, "there are things the wealthy and powerful need to do to make sure they don't abuse their responsibilies, because it's very possible to do that without even intending to. Sometimes those people will have an idea that they believe to be so interesting that it needs to be tested out. However, they don't consider if it would even be useful or a good use of the resources they have available to them." Her eyes narrowed. "An ultra insulting squirrel, as you called it, is one of those ideas and is exactly where this all stemmed from. Ultra insulting squirrels, I'm sure, you can rationalize in your head. The average person would disagree. Experiments like that are for after you've retired from politics and can devote yourself fully to them and their consequences, not before. A split concentration leads to neither job being done quite as well and could be the difference between life and death of an unfortunate bystander."
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