Collection of Curios

-- .Grace Rocky Save Stars. --

What is your preferred name?

What are your pronouns?

How old are you?

What is your zodiac sign?

What time zone are you in?

What other fandoms are you in, apart from this one?

What drew you to writing your current character(s)?

Have you ever met anyone outside of RP?

How would you describe your aesthetic?

What is your favorite fictional character (in or out of the current fandom)?

What are your favorite hobbies besides roleplaying/writing?

What is your first language?

How many languages do you speak?

How long have you been roleplaying?

Have you ever caught feelings for a roleplay partner?

What is your favorite band/music genre?

What is your favorite food?

If you could visit anywhere in the world, where would you go?

If you could learn any language at the snap of your fingers, which would you learn, and why?

Grace is comforting. Despite the unfamiliarity of it all, the persistent disbelief that he's anywhere other than that god-forsaken submarine, the fear that lingers in the back of his head—the known, the unknown, and everything in between—there's still some comfort to be found in the man's presence. At least, enough so that Simon's heart doesn't quite pound when they're together, nor does he flinch away when Grace takes such delicate care in sitting with him, like he's something fragile. He's not sure how he feels about that.

"So that's your agenda: get in good with me so we can become unlikely friends. I'm surprised you're willing to reveal your hand this early on." The humor in that thought might not be immediately obvious in his tone, but... it's in there somewhere. A small deflection to avoid picking apart the sentiment that came with that joke. Wants to help him—lord.

It's Simon's turn to huff in vague amusement. Yeah, he's had enough alone-time for a lifetime, and he's sure he hasn't spent nearly as long by himself as Grace has. He can only imagine just how true those words actually are for him, and on top of that, the fact that he's still willing to give him space anyway. A hint of a frown tugs at the corners of his mouth, but his eyes remain firmly fixed downwards.

A light chuckle slips from his lips at that playful mockery, even if it comes in that even tone, sounding just as serious as anything else Simon might come out with. The fact he's comfortable enough to make such remarks warms his heart, it's a step in the right direction, small but present nonetheless.

"my mom doesn't know if this is a good place for me," she starts to sign, "she's very protective and she thinks it's too dangerous for me to be out here without her, I never got to leave her side unless I was in school... she can't see past that.. mist thing," the mist was the magical veil that prevented mortals from seeing the monsters and creatures they believe are myths, some mortals could see past it, but it was rare and many times led to madness.

"My mom is scared that she can't see the things trying to kill me, so to protect me we move around all the time. Harder for monsters to track a demigod that is never in one place I guess?" Elle shrugged, she was new to this side of the world and never even knew about myths outside of that one Disney movie she watched captioned in school, so she didn't understand how the monsters worked or just how many threats were out there. Her mom moved them from shelter to shelter and hotel to hotel around her school district to keep her "safe" during the year and then around the state and even New Jersey during the previous summers.

Apollo lets out a thoughtful hum as she explains the situation she finds herself in, his brows furrowing slightly. Certainly he can understand that her mother would want her to remain safe, as any good mother would, but the fact that she is limiting her child learning how to truly protect herself seems counter-productive.

'It isn't about knowing better.' He finally signs in response, expression still pinched. While he knows he's telling the wrong person here, he still can't help but air his thoughts. 'Moving you constantly may be effective for some time, but would it not be better combined with you knowing how to defend yourself? How to fight?' Pausing thoughtfully, he exhales hard, a frown tugging at his lips. He does what he can to avoid former lovers, for their sake and his own, usually trysts with him end… messily. Perhaps he'll have to bite the proverbial bullet on this one. 'Do you think she may pay heed to my words? Or would that further damn you?'

"Gosh, I'd hope not, but I've... kinda noticed that people tend to form their own opinions of me pretty quickly, even without outside influence." He's not unconvinced that Apollo isn't doing so right now; the slight falter in his mask isn't lost on Abel whether he points it out or not. Even without the apparent scoff, there's something... unhappy behind those words. He might not be able to decipher exactly what, but he's aware.

It's not his fault Dio gushes about him... for as cute as it is. That man deserves all the smooches the next time he sees him. (It would have been a reasonable assumption to make, but it's nice to hear that it's actually happening. Even if it might be in apparent excess. His sweet man.)

-- ❝Hm. Rather the closed off one, I see. Do you not think me trustworthy for your true thoughts?❞ It's spoken softly and with a smile but there's an intensity in his gaze that betrays how that irritates him, even if he has done nothing to earn trust from Abel in the first place. Quietly he wonders if Dionysus has spoken of him, of some of the remarks he may have made in his jealousy.

At this point, Eva Stratt was well-used to Ryland Grace's quips. The way he talked when he was nervous was nothing new to her. Teaching a lesson in front of students was very different than a formal lecture, but he has done it before. Plus, in Eva's eyes, the audience he's going to be presenting to was probably easier than the previous rooms. Despite Dr. Grace's anxieties, when push came to shove, he always did it. He could do it, and she knew he could.

At his desperate and nervous pleas, she shoots him a look. One that said she understood his anxiety, but also that said he's doing it. It was never a negotiation to begin with, and she doesn't have time.

"Dr. Grace," she said, taking the pile of notes from his hands.

Her hand arm subtly goes up to block him from trying to get any closer to his notes, and also to use that opportunity to usher him out. Her voice is calm and even, as she attempts to assure him and re-direct his attention.

send a symbol and i’ll give you a corresponding song for the prompt!

🎼 A song that reminds me of my muse’s vibes

🎶 A song that reminds me of my muse’s backstory

🎧 A song used for writing my muse

🥁 A battle song for my muse

🎭 A sad song for my muse

🎉 A happy song for my muse

📣 A song for when my muse is upset or angry

⚡ A song that my muse would listen to

🎆 A song my muse would sing or dance to

🎺 An instrumental song for my muse

✨ A theme song for my muse

🔊 A leitmotif for my muse

🌠 A song for our muses

🖤 A song for our muses’ ship