C o w a r d .

This account was always meant to be more of a side account for fun, so I'll still be here, but it will be mostly when the mood strikes me for a while. (Hopefully work will calm down after Father's Day and I can be on more often.) In the meantime, most of my attention will be going to these three blogs.

              xthegooddoctor

          Absently, he slips his hands into his pocket and pulls out three pale rubber balls, beginning to juggle them as he speaks. Whether this is a force of habit or his own subtle way of showing off his talent is debatable.

    ♪ — “Well what would you be, besides a juggler? An actor? A mask maker perhaps? Tell me, did you make that yourself or did you purchase it somewhere? It’s very curious…” 

                    ❝ Well, if I weren't a juggler, I suppose I'd like to be rich. ❞

          ❝ I’d say that your definition of ‘handsome’ more              accurately describes babies. Which are              horrendous, I agree. Not quite as horrendous as              you, I’m sure. At least babies can’t make stupid              decisions. ❞

               ❝ And I'm not horrendous -- I happen to be magnificent. ❞

                       ”Nooo! I don’t want it to eat my soul!" ✿

          He doesn't move to help. What if it tries to eat him too? He doesn't see any use in both of them being eaten.

      There was a toss of the apple he once kept in grasp towards the direction of the stranger. If anything he intended on juggling it rather than consuming it in the first place.

               ❝ You're a gentleman and a scholar. Probably. How should I know? ❞

"I think you’ve walked into the wrong house," Snow White said, thick brows creasing as she looked the strange man over. Where on earth had he come from?

          Then again, he and his tower weren't getting along very well at the moment; something about he was too messy and shouldn't keep flinging everything into the floor because that doesn't count as cleaning. What did a tower know about cleaning, anyway?

"And you’re going to get impaled by my cane." So he’s had a cranky morning, he’s going to bitch.

          He might have been more worried about the threat of cane-death if he'd actually still been listening at that point. He'd meant to be listening. Instead, he can only concentrate on trying to determine what a 'psych ward' is.

                 ”You know, I think it is. I think—- Ah—Ah—Ah-choo!”                    Peter lifts his hands to his face all too late, the                    supposed sneeze directed right at Valentine.

 ”I don’t like that prefix.”

           ❝ Well if you're going to get all huffy about it... What would you rather I call you? ❞

MirrorMask (2005)

a lil mirrormask fanart. relearning how to draw.