"I am infinitely strange to myself." 

      — John Fowles, The French Lieutenant’s Woman    "But you exist somewhere. Something of you remains." 

      — Virginia Woolf, The Waves (via groigne)   "I’m not used to describing the complicated state of the soul. Perhaps, I don’t need to say that. I have the feeling you understand." 

      — From the Life of the Marionettes (1980), Dir. Ingmar Bergman  
(via wordsnquotes)  
Title: We Must Be Killers
Artist: Mikky Ekko
Played: 0 times

emilylistenstomusic:

We Must Be Killers | Mikky Ekko


 

hiddensteel 

⊰  ❄  ⁞    @inferuxs  ||  starter call  ⊱

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        She had expected the road to be empty. It had been nearly the entire day and so surprise crossed her visage when she spotted a man walking toward her. The FEAR quickly followed. Was he working for the Lannisters? Or the Boltons? Surely they both must have men out looking for her. She pulled her hood further over her head, hoping to hide any trace of her AUBURN hair beneath it. He was alone so perhaps he was simply another traveler. She could walk right past, but would that look more s u s p i c i o u s? When he drew closer, Sansa glanced in his direction.            Good afternoon, ser.           Hopefully he would simply speak his own greeting and then continue on his way.

        The girl’s unease is what draws Jaqen H’ghar’s attention first. Once the hooded figure comes closer, her coloring forces him to further scrutinize her. He knows of only one girl who, with remarkable Tully colors, has reason to hide herself. A most wanted girl, he immediately speculates; one who flounders in the art of concealing when before a man who is trained to find such a thing. ( Before she spoke, the man thought he might have been mistaken, but her courtesy gave her away. He had heard too much lore of the Stark sisters in his time as Jaqen H’ghar to not discern the elder of the two. ) 

        “ Good afternoon, my Lady.” The second-half of his statement is spoken a pitch softer than the former—a near whisper. Upon granting her an owed answer, the man sweeps his bronze gaze along the otherwise-empty road, making sure no spiders on the wall can latch onto his silken words.

        They are nearly shoulder to shoulder at this junction in time—the man facing one way and the girl the other. He dips his chin towards the arm nearest hers as if pointing his words in her direction. 

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        “ A girl may consider whether she would listen to a man who knows of someone she could see again.” Although his voice delivers his message softly and kindly, there lies a sternness beneath his words; it testifies to his hope for her to listen. His brows remain slightly lifted in a show of relative innocence. 

 

tw-gif:

I felt utterly weak, like I needed someone to come and rescue me. I hate that feeling. I wanna feel stronger than that. I wanna feel  p o w e r f u l .

 

R U L E

INDEPENDENT
JAQEN H'GHAR
OF GRRM'S
A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE.

Y O U R

LOW ACTIVITY.
MULTI-EVERYTHING.
#INFERUXS

F A C E.

PLEASE READ
LINKS 02., 04., AND 06.
BEFORE INTERATCION.