Written By Ripley
Nov. 26, 2020, 3:33 p.m.(6/16/1014 AR)
I don't regret the Ripley Thornbrie. Not at all. Probably a good thing I slept in my forge after the meeting and didn't go home.
I'm not feeling sociable. I don't know why, I won't know why. It is, I guess, what it is. But i learned something and while I laid on my couch and trying to find my way out, I thought about the skull. I thought about what I was getting ready to make. About the little girl, village in tor and the well in the other. I can't get it out of my head. The commission was canceled and yet, it's stuck there like a bug, burrowed under the skin and growing, refusing to release. An itch I need to scratch. I need to excise it before it overtakes me.
I'm not feeling sociable. I don't know why, I won't know why. It is, I guess, what it is. But i learned something and while I laid on my couch and trying to find my way out, I thought about the skull. I thought about what I was getting ready to make. About the little girl, village in tor and the well in the other. I can't get it out of my head. The commission was canceled and yet, it's stuck there like a bug, burrowed under the skin and growing, refusing to release. An itch I need to scratch. I need to excise it before it overtakes me.
Written By Ripley
Nov. 25, 2020, 7:01 p.m.(6/15/1014 AR)
And I'm lost again. I threw everything out. It's not good enough. Or I'm not good enough. I don't know. Someone can destroy them or can sell them. I don't care. Jayus can have it all.
Written By Ripley
Nov. 22, 2020, 1:14 a.m.(6/7/1014 AR)
And just like that, upon returning from the Eidolon, I sat at my bench and I created. There was no end to the work. As swiftly as I fnished the molds for one and had to let the metal cool, I was making another. Tree's with people trapped within or at least transitioning from what there were, to what they would be. Other tree's trapping the moon within it's boughs. That came to me while I was standing outside the shop so that I could cool down. I remembered a dream, dark hands trying to catch blood and pour it back into me and then toe rings because, well, toe rings. And then another dream can now hang from the ears of someone. Sleeping youth trapped in the golden bars of crumbling and breaking away age.
So much more in my head but I am exhausted and the last piece, I burned myself with carelessness. And a skull. I made a skull. I hope it suffices, that it suits. I still need to find out about these other people. What they were like, who were they. The Archduchess Eleyna Velenosa... oh, well that may be an issue. Then the Prince Radley Valardin. Find out about this Sungreet and A woman named Arcadia. Whomever she is. There's other skulls to do. But at least the one is done. For now, back to the forge, to the heat and see if I can't try and sleep. See what that will bring me.
So much more in my head but I am exhausted and the last piece, I burned myself with carelessness. And a skull. I made a skull. I hope it suffices, that it suits. I still need to find out about these other people. What they were like, who were they. The Archduchess Eleyna Velenosa... oh, well that may be an issue. Then the Prince Radley Valardin. Find out about this Sungreet and A woman named Arcadia. Whomever she is. There's other skulls to do. But at least the one is done. For now, back to the forge, to the heat and see if I can't try and sleep. See what that will bring me.
Written By Ripley
Nov. 21, 2020, 12:06 p.m.(6/6/1014 AR)
HAH! Not unwelcome in the ward of the Velenosan's! I took a trot through to go stare at some statues again in the Mazetti manor and oddly enough, the guards smile at me.
The statues didn't though, not surprised at that, what with them being statues and all. Stern faced.
The statues didn't though, not surprised at that, what with them being statues and all. Stern faced.
Written By Ripley
Nov. 20, 2020, 11:54 p.m.(6/5/1014 AR)
I lay down on my couch and I picture Toad. Is he cold? Is his or her brothers beating up on him or her? Does he have enough to eat? I might have to slip over and see him again.
Written By Ripley
Nov. 20, 2020, 8:04 p.m.(6/5/1014 AR)
What is it with silks coming in my forge, standing there and asking if I can make something.
Of course I can make something. Last minute, I was in a mood, I could do that. But then they leave after leaving the bits and bobs that I would need and never left me a name. They have a really bad habit of just presuming that their stuck up noses are recognized everywhere.
How in the abyss am I expected to know the name and sight of every gods damned silk in this city? I don't sit with a tome of sketches just in case the third cousin of the baron of stink nose decides they want a piece of gold fashioned to go around their third toe.
How hard is it to say "Hi my name-"
Too hard apparently if this is the third one in a few weeks to do it.
My memory is perfectly fine. Looks like their memory is the damaged one if they can't bother to remember to introduce themselves.
Tell you what, how about this. If you're not the king, the dead dominus, the archlector of Jayus and my mum and family, and my guildmasters then fuck off with you and say your name. Don't presume that because you were born with the silver spoon in your maw, that you're entitled to some random commoner sitting down for hours and learning what your third mole on your cheek and that scar across your eye means you battled some big ass bear, and you're from the county of footswobble.
You're not.
Tell me your name, or you're going to get called in the streets when your commission is done, by how I know you.
Bland noble who wanted a rush job and shit manners.
Of course I can make something. Last minute, I was in a mood, I could do that. But then they leave after leaving the bits and bobs that I would need and never left me a name. They have a really bad habit of just presuming that their stuck up noses are recognized everywhere.
How in the abyss am I expected to know the name and sight of every gods damned silk in this city? I don't sit with a tome of sketches just in case the third cousin of the baron of stink nose decides they want a piece of gold fashioned to go around their third toe.
How hard is it to say "Hi my name-"
Too hard apparently if this is the third one in a few weeks to do it.
My memory is perfectly fine. Looks like their memory is the damaged one if they can't bother to remember to introduce themselves.
Tell you what, how about this. If you're not the king, the dead dominus, the archlector of Jayus and my mum and family, and my guildmasters then fuck off with you and say your name. Don't presume that because you were born with the silver spoon in your maw, that you're entitled to some random commoner sitting down for hours and learning what your third mole on your cheek and that scar across your eye means you battled some big ass bear, and you're from the county of footswobble.
You're not.
Tell me your name, or you're going to get called in the streets when your commission is done, by how I know you.
Bland noble who wanted a rush job and shit manners.
Written By Ripley
Nov. 15, 2020, 10:27 p.m.(5/22/1014 AR)
Babies.
I love them. So fat and chubby and wrinkly. They can be anything they want to be underneath all that chub. They just gotta grow and it'll be revealed. I could just sit and look at them forever. Pinch their cheeks. Gently of course. I miss my siblings being babies. Okay, my sisters and brothers need to have more babies, or get married and have babies.
I love them. So fat and chubby and wrinkly. They can be anything they want to be underneath all that chub. They just gotta grow and it'll be revealed. I could just sit and look at them forever. Pinch their cheeks. Gently of course. I miss my siblings being babies. Okay, my sisters and brothers need to have more babies, or get married and have babies.
Written By Ripley
Nov. 8, 2020, 10:13 p.m.(5/8/1014 AR)
I have taken Goodman Apollo as patron. Or is that the Goodman has taken me as protégé? There's some proper order to it I'm sure.
And he took me to the Keaton stronghold and while it was one thing to have spent all this time talking with Caprice about getting a dog, I had never actually thought about the logistics or did much in the way of looking for one. But Apollo clambered over the fence and picked up one that was not fit for sleeping like the others were, and then there was a second puppy.
I want them all.
I want the whole litter.
But I suppose I shall have to wait for news of whether I will be permitted just one. He looks like a toad. All wrinkly faced and long tongue. Toad. And his home will be affixed with a placard that will call it his hole.
Toad in a hole.
Toad.
I have slipped onto the grounds twice to sit outside the pen and just sit and stare at him and take off before I can be caught. So wrinkly. I wonder if he can be taught to croak. I hope they do not give him away before I can plead my case. Toad was meant to be with me.
And he took me to the Keaton stronghold and while it was one thing to have spent all this time talking with Caprice about getting a dog, I had never actually thought about the logistics or did much in the way of looking for one. But Apollo clambered over the fence and picked up one that was not fit for sleeping like the others were, and then there was a second puppy.
I want them all.
I want the whole litter.
But I suppose I shall have to wait for news of whether I will be permitted just one. He looks like a toad. All wrinkly faced and long tongue. Toad. And his home will be affixed with a placard that will call it his hole.
Toad in a hole.
Toad.
I have slipped onto the grounds twice to sit outside the pen and just sit and stare at him and take off before I can be caught. So wrinkly. I wonder if he can be taught to croak. I hope they do not give him away before I can plead my case. Toad was meant to be with me.
Written By Ripley
Nov. 7, 2020, 10:38 p.m.(5/6/1014 AR)
I screamed like a stuck pig and threw a cow at a Duchess. Real smooth Ripley. Real fucking smooth.
Written By Ripley
Nov. 5, 2020, 7:36 p.m.(5/2/1014 AR)
I should get a tattoo that says Thornburn tattoo'd on my arse.
but pretty sure my mum and my sisters would drub me upside the head. Ried'd get it though. Pretty sure he'd understand.
I really should...
but pretty sure my mum and my sisters would drub me upside the head. Ried'd get it though. Pretty sure he'd understand.
I really should...
Written By Ripley
Oct. 19, 2020, 1:09 p.m.(3/24/1014 AR)
I write this from the guildmasters settee. I don't know why anyone even asks me to make anything. Jayus abandons me, and something else takes his place. Reid's letters pile up and others beside me. I am ignoring them. I threw everything into the fountain like the crazed man that I am. They are no good except for hanging on the fountains edges and glittering in the sunlight. Jayus has abandoned me, I am a cruel man. I should take to the road till my feet bleed. I didn't know it would cause so much turmoil. I didn't mean to. I'm a horrible person.
Written By Ripley
Oct. 18, 2020, 11:44 p.m.(3/22/1014 AR)
Jayus takes away his love. I am a horrible person. I should not create. I should just go back into the wilds. Walk until I can walk no further. Then walk more. My passion brings disappointment and sadness. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Written By Ripley
Oct. 3, 2020, 1:16 a.m.(2/19/1014 AR)
It screams. I think it scream. I don't know why I made them. I shouldn't create when I am like this. It's not good, not good at all. The things I make are strange.
Written By Ripley
Oct. 3, 2020, 1:14 a.m.(2/19/1014 AR)
To stand within the shadows of greatness, beset on both sides by skill.
Bloodied hands from prick and blow, the smell of wet wool and hot iron.
Forever do I strive to keep my head above.
To not disappear into the darkness cast by them,
they whose praises are sung along the streets by silk and scrap alike.
Glinting in that night they cast.
I huddle for want of the warmth that those words provide.
The flicker of delight that ignites the ego.
Only embers,
only coal.
Bloodied hands from prick and blow, the smell of wet wool and hot iron.
Forever do I strive to keep my head above.
To not disappear into the darkness cast by them,
they whose praises are sung along the streets by silk and scrap alike.
Glinting in that night they cast.
I huddle for want of the warmth that those words provide.
The flicker of delight that ignites the ego.
Only embers,
only coal.
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