But one of those within the fortress was a woman, daughter of the warrior Gazhdaham, named Gordafarid. When she learned that their leader had allowed himself to be taken, she found his behaviour so shameful that her rosy cheeks became as black as pitch with rage. With not a moment’s delay she dressed herself in a knight’s armour, gathered her hair beneath a Rumi helmet, and rode out from the fortress, a lion eager for battle. She roared at the enemy ranks, “Where are your heroes, your warriors, your tried and tested chieftains?”
—  Ferdowsi, Shāhnāmeh

gordafarid-deactivated20130430 asked:

Lacie prompt, word: Oswald

Still in my inbox: fulfilling requests for a Lacie drabble or head canon in honor of her birthday.


Sometimes, Lacie would look over at her brother when he is off in his own thoughts: head downcast, eyes staring somewhat on the ground before him, sometimes bumping headlong into busy maids or the guards on patrol as he wandered, mumbling a quick apology before cutting past them—-

—- and all she can think is, “How? How can he?

Moments like this, when he’d look for a book in the library, only to find it on his desk hours later, or how he’d cover her hastily with his cape as they dashed back to the manor because he forgot to bring an umbrella although the overhead clouds predicted rain….  

During these moments, she could not help but wonder: "How can a person like Oswald tear me limb from limb? What inside him is able to be so foolish and so cruel? This man who’d wear cravats that don’t match his vest if the maids didn’t pick out his clothes every morning?"

So she asked him one night, when she was feeling particularly morbid and dour and Oswald was drifting off before the fireplace:

"Do you ever dream of me in pieces, brother?"

"Wha?" Oswald sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes. A glance to the mantle clock. "I should get you back to the Tower—"

Lacie tugged at his sleeve, pulling him down beside her on the rug. “Do you care?” she said, letting accusation slip onto her tongue. “Or I am another mindless task you need to get done?”

"What are you talking about?" Oswald snapped (he was always cranky upon waking and Lacie took advantage of this). "We’ll get in trouble if you’re not back by first watch—"

"I don’t care if I get in trouble! Yet if that’s the only worry you have, then I can take myself to the Tower without you."

"Hold on." Oswald took her arms, and that confused expression — a look she despised, a face that read, "sheep, sheep, sheep,” in her mind, and she hated Oswald suddenly, for being so kind and so bumbling and so obedient when it came to what he was supposed to do.

"You can’t go yourself."

"Because I’ll run away again? Because Glen would scold you for being an irresponsible older brother, for not doing your duty?”

"Well, no, because…" he fumbled with his hands at his knees as he knelt beside her, an adorable gesture in any other light if it hadn’t represented to Lacie how much of a mindless twit he was. "I like doing it," he blurted out. "I… I like our routines. Of us saying good-night. By the Tower." He paused. "Does that annoy you?"

Lacie sighed. Oswald — he could be so dense sometimes. He’d never understand her fear, her horror, her loneliness. But he loved her and he appreciated the little things. Like good-night walks. The hate slowly seeped out, replaced by a tender resignation at her brother’s spaciness. 

"No," she said and linked her arm in his. A small part of her was glad that Oswald was this way. If he had been more perceptive about her as she was about him, maybe his duties would eventually drive him mad. And she didn’t want that for Oswald; that would be such a waste of her life if her brother lost his mind over her.

"I’m sorry I was cross," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Let’s hurry now, before the guards notice."

gordafarid replied to your post: You’re still making a profit off of breeding a species of animal that is massively overpopulated, though? I dunno, there’s a lot of ethic issues about forcing an animal to give birth and selling its litters to line your pockets when there are so many animals in need of a home. I don’t think you’ll understand how problematic breeding is though.

God this is so like the PETA mind-set. MY SELF RIGHTEOUSNESS IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN ACTUAL ANIMAL WELFARE. These are the same sort of people who protest the human society because they provide free euthanasia for dying animals.


RPing - moving to Dreamwidth?

I’m still on hiatus from role-playing the Dormouse, but when and if I decide to return, with all of these crazy changes on tumblr, I’m not sure how practical it would be for me to continue RPing here. I’ve been having issues with RPing in tumblr for a long time, anyway, mainly stemming from dropping their thread trails, which makes it harder to keep track of reply histories, and the difficulty it is to get notification for replies unless the other RPer drops me a message. 

Problem is, though, how I RP the Dormouse would not translate as effectively on Dreamwidth. 

I was never a big icon user, for example, and icon-only convos are a much bigger part of RPing on Dreamwidth. That, and most communities I see that do have Chain RPers require them to be human without their Chain powers. Though I do have an idea for a human!Dormouse, but I’d prefer not to make the switch unless I had to. Much of my interpretation of the Dormouse’s motivations are rooted in the desire to be human, and I find it much more interesting to write it as non-human as possible.

Of course, I could just do Fred, no problem.

Or my genderbent!Vincent, whose been lurking into the back of my head since forever. 

I’d still be sad to retire my perverted mousie friend, though.

Hmmmm, anyone have any thoughts? (Ragingbird, Numi, Birdy, I’m looking at you three the most, since I know you guys do RPing over there….)


This Friday (8/19/11) at the Back Stage at Central Stage in Richmond, CA, audience members can hear three of the key performers from Tirgan 2011 (Gordafarid, Ida Saki, and Shahrokh Moshkin Ghalam) in conversation with Mansour Taeed. Can’t help but wonder about the connections; regardless, sounds like an interesting evening!


Check it:

Mansour Taeed in an up close and personal conversation with Gordafarid, the first woman storyteller, Ida Saki, the vibrant Iranian young dancer and performer, Afshin Mofid, the great ballet dancer, Shahrokh Yadegari, composer and director and Shahrokh Moshkin Ghalam,
the great Iranian dancer and performer and a Q&A with the audience, and few surprise performances by our guests!

Friday, August 19, 2011 8:30 - 10:30pm

Limited tickets available at:

gordafarid-deactivated20130430 asked:

Vince/Gil-- Hearts in jars

Note: I’m writing Vincent-centric three sentence drabbles in honor of his birthday today.  

Egads, your prompt reminded me of one of your fics about keeping Gilbert’s heart in a box… 


Dust, cobwebs, and the dry smell of bones greeted Vincent as he moved silently between the dusty shelves of a long abandoned laboratory; he had traveled all night to get to this location, prompted by an urgency more serious than the command given by Glen (and how odd it was, to hear that serene and matter-of-fact tone coated by Leo’s voice); the Baskervilles had the body and the spiritual memories of the last Baskerville leader, but one part remained before the resurrection could take place: the piece that contained the essence of the man’s soul.

Once Glen Baskerville was resurrected, the long-renegade House could re-instill the cycle of inheritance once more, killing off the boy (Vincent held no lasting qualms toward Leo, when compared to the benefit brought by his death and the boy had been longing for death anyway) and then transferring that mass of souls inside him into the proper vessel, bringing them one step closer to controlling the Will of the Abyss (and to Vincent’s wish).

For you, brother, thought Vincent sadly as he found the cache of canopic jars where Arthur Barma had hidden them; he’d do this final thing for Gil, who hadn’t stirred from his catatonic state since the shooting (that damned rabbit, that cursed inhuman blight that ruined Gilbert’s life…); when Vincent found the heart of Oswald Baskerville, he cradled the stone jar in his arms during the bumpy carriage ride back, stroking the enameled surface, thinking of midnight locks and golden eyes and hoping, hoping that seeing his former master in the flesh would stir the spark of awareness in his brother once more.   

anonymous asked:

Do you have any favorite fanfictions? Do you enjoy reading and writing fanfic equally or prefer doing one over the other?

All of my favorites are on the Pandora Hearts kink meme.

Because of my job involves lots of outside reading, I actually don’t read much fanfic. Some people (Corwin and Birdy) I’ll read anything from, and I’ll read any Nightraycest I can get my hands on, since so few people actually write it. XDDD

I tend to re-read my longer works a lot (and then end up fixing all of the typos I missed out on!) It helps motivate me with my WIPs. 

anonymous asked:

Has a fanwork or words from someone else ever changed your view completely on a pairing or character?

I always enjoy reading people’s analysis of characters, especially if they’ve revealed a side to someone I never considered before.

In Pandora Hearts, there are a couple of people who I trust with character analysis for certain people. Lilyginnyblack, while i agree with her analysis a lot of the time, I appreciate because it is so thorough in its scope. Birdy (gordafarid) has also given me a deeper appreciation for Vanessa.

There has also been great analysis about Mako in Legend of Korra fandom about how much of a self-centered, manipulative jerk he is to everyone in the cast, that’s truly changed my perception of him as a positive love interest for Korra, however. 

gordafarid replied to your post: gordafarid replied to your post: Do you have any…

Only Team Rosalie. Being a selfish manipulator of Bella all just to posses her demon-child. Honestly I could care less about the men in the series— I am only after the crazy babes.

XD Yes, I should’ve guessed. 

And only now comes this realization of what Breaking Dawn was really about….