014: Mask

After the long day of riding, it was a huge relief to stop for the night. Antero took his helmet off with a sigh as the sun set, relishing the cold air after the stiffling air of his desert suit. “Come on, Tore,” he added to his charge, “the air is much nicer outside.”

Tore sat on the bionic horse, almost completely still, the small glass visor showing nothing but shadow in the fading light. If he received any response, Antero couldn’t hear it through the muffle of Tore’s suit.

“I know your father warned you about ever taking your suit off,” Antero said, sighing and dismounting to approach Tore, “but the sun’s away now. It’s safe. Your father has never seen a real desert in his life.”

“I don’t want to get out,” Tore said, her voice almost squeaky and impossible to hear.

Antero stripped the torsal shield off of his suit and crossed his arms. “There’s no sense staying in there. It’s just hot now. But the sun doesn’t burn and the sands don’t storm at night, come on out before you scare everyone away.”

Her suit chinked as Tore inclined her head slightly, sounding dejected. “But… the suit is the only thing that keeps the men away.”

Antero raised an eyebrow. “The culture is very different here, isn’t it? But the threat of your father remains very present even for the men here. They would stop flirting as soon as they knew that he doesn’t approve, you know.”

Immediately, Tore shook her head. “No that’s not–that’s not the problem.” When the rattling finally ended, she added, almost too quiet to be heard, “They’re very civil. Almost too civil.”

Before Antero could answer, he was greeted by a few of the caravan’s men, clearly glad to be out of the cabins and into the cool night, ready for a good party. With callous laughs and slaps on the back, they chatted loudly about the hunting ahead.

“Hey Antero, where’s that kid of yours? He needs to man up and come along.”

“Still wearing your suit? Loosen up, it’s cool out here.”

“Come on, man, stop hanging out with these weird stuits and join us.”

But they left soon, retreating from the presence of Tore’s suited, mounted form. As soon as they were out of earshot, she sighed. “They want me to be something they’re not,” she said sadly.


Lila and Antero had their birthdays together. Lila rolled the Neurotic trait. Probably the result of being around her stepbrother too much. I’d be stressed out easily if I had to spend my early childhood with Allonso, too.

Antero aged up sweet as ever, also blue-eyed. His IF’s name is Sharky. :)

ask2pfinland asked:

Are you leaving yet ? You've literally been at my house for my months and I believe it's time for you to go.

I didn’t even go to my house for really long time, I didn’t pay any bills since I was here, and probably there is no any heater working there anymore even if I pay it will take for a whole to get them back to work. maybe next month!

I am not ready to go back home yet!

you don’t want me to be sick again, aren’t you?

Entre sombras

Vem ás vezes sentar-se ao pé de mim

— A noite desce, desfolhando as rosas —

Vem ter commigo, ás horas duvidosas,

Uma visão, com azas de setim…

Pousa de leve a delicada mão

— Rescende amena a noite socegada —

Pousa a mão compassiva e perfumada

Sobre o meu dolorido coração…

E diz-me essa visão compadecida

— Ha suspiros no espaço vaporoso —

Diz-me: Porque é que choras silencioso?

Porque é tão erma e triste a tua vida?

Vem commigo! Embalado nos meus braços

— Na noite funda ha um silencio santo —

N'um sonho feito só de luz e encanto

Transporás a dormir esses espaços…

Porque eu habito a região distante

— A noite exhala uma doçura infinda —

Onde ainda se crê e se ama ainda,

Onde uma aurora igual brilha constante…

Habito ali, e tu virás commigo

— Palpita a noite n'um clarão que offusca —

Porque eu venho de longe, em tua busca,

Trazer-te paz e alivio, pobre amigo…

Assim me fala essa visão nocturna

— No vago espaço ha vozes dolorosas —

São as suas palavras carinhosas

Agua correndo em crystalina urna…

Mas eu escuto-a immovel, somnolento

— A noite verte um desconsolo immenso —

Sinto nos membros como um chumbo denso,

E mudo e tenebroso o pensamento…

Fito-a, n'um pasmo doloroso absorto

— A noite é erma como campa enorme —

Fito-a com olhos turvos de quem dorme

E respondo: Bem sabes que estou morto!

Antero de Quental


Antero, last baby of generation 2. I may or may not have named him after a San Jose Sharks player. Back-up goalie in particular. GO SHARKS! Oh… sorry.

He was born with the Good and Light Sleeper traits. So basically, the complete opposite of his sister.

Here are two pictures of him, one in generic blue larva swagger and another in sweet customized larva swagger.

A um Poeta

Tu que dormes, espírito sereno,
Posto à sombra dos cedros seculares,
Como um levita à sombra dos altares,
Longe da luta e do fragor terreno.

Acorda! É tempo! O sol, já alto e pleno
Afugentou as larvas tumulares…
Para surgir do seio desses mares
Um mundo novo espera só um aceno…

Escuta! É a grande voz das multidões!
São teus irmãos, que se erguem! São canções…
Mas de guerra… e são vozes de rebate!

Ergue-te, pois, soldado do Futuro,
E dos raios de luz do sonho puro,
Sonhador, faze espada de combate!

—  Sonetos, Antero de Quental