🐏 dumb 15 yr old traumatizes his future only friend, more at 9
🐏 no seriously sylvie what the fuck i thought you're a psychologist you from all people should know how stupid of an idea it is to use nightmare fuel like that,
🐏 he's so small he's like a pre-teen no wonder everyone keeps calling him a kid
🐏 "kid, do you have ANY friends?" (sylvie, proudly, with a smug face:) "No."
🐏 can turn into a scottish minotaur. yeah you heard that right. the creators refuse to say whether or not this would count as a fursona. (it probably is)
🐏 "don't talk to me before i had my coffee" type of person except the coffee is hot chocolate with marshmallows
🐏 thinks the glasses make him look smart. (it does not)
🐏 his attempt on a sinister laugh just turns into stupid clown laughter but, yknow, he's trying.
🐏 "waiting behind red tape is for the general public. I figured there's no harm in getting an academic preview!" man look at that ego
🐏 okay but these counting sheeps he can summon? very cuddly, fluffy, smol, soft and cute. emotional support animals to go, big recommend
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Hiiiii! God I'm so sorry for being slow on all of my blogs haa,
Anywho! We haven't done a proper introduction here yet, so time to catch up! Call me Dana, or any variations of that name — you might already know me from the lovely horrible mr goose or the smug brit mr dove! no there's not an avian pattern thanks for asking <3
As you can see my activity is awfully sporadic, but should it help you; the timezone's GMT+1, aka it's 9:52pm as I'm writing this. You can reach me on twitter (@danieladotsofia) or DM me to ask for my Discord! Plain tumblr IM's are fine too, though I gotta say their notifications are a pain.
Being a minor I'm (unfortunately) still stuck in school, although as of now I got homeschooling instead until...yknow. yeah. Aside from writing, I enjoy digital art & am part of a theatre group. I also started to pick up the violin again, although I've grown awfully rusty.
Not sure what else to say, except watch epithet erased <3 the 7 episodes are worth it i promise you
Sylvester: *holding a salt packet* It’s just a little sodium chloride.
Mera: Actually kid, it’s salt.
Sylvester: That’s what I said, sodium chloride.
Mera: Uh kid, that would be salt.
Mera: *takes salt packer from Sylvester* This is iodized table salt, which in addition to sodium chloride contains anti-caking agents & potassium iodate, which is added to prevent iodine deficiency. So not only are you being overly pretentious by insisting on using scientific terminology for everyday items, you are factually wrong. Your arrogance is your downfall, you annoying little shit.
What's there to misunderstand?! It's the same story all over again, and sugarcoating it doesn't help in the slightest; it's his age, again, that's in the way. At least judging by what she said, there's no other reason given.
He can help around a bit! Don't want to overwhelm a kid! We got you covered! Oh, sorry, thought I'd be getting a real psychologist here to talk to, not, some, dang, small, CHILD —!!
Things got more comfortable when he graduated and had his own practice, but — Sylvie can't afford to open one here, let alone when he barely settled down and is basically stuck with pocket money only.
Humiliating, was it. Being a highly-trained Epither user and a licensed Psychologist, yet incapable of performing either, now.
Perhaps anyone decent would have left it be, but Sylvie just couldn't, really, knowing how this is the closest to his occupation in his homeworld he'll get. Working as some Barista, or whatever else will even consider taking him — he might actually puke. Not to mention how Pride won't dare digest it. The entire stay in this city felt like a horrible & insulting joke on the independency he's worked so hard for.
Despite the emotional cacophony at heart, he'd make sure to appear calm — lest, that too, gets marked off as "childish" and a disqualification trait. Three solid knocks at the door, and he'd wait.
"Ms Cykes?" while her being "personally uncomfortable" with hiring him is not something he can change much, at the very least the legality is up to debate; if it was forbidden by law to hire a minor, then he wanted to see sources. "May I speak with you for a moment?"
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Previous Experience:
I’m a licensed psychologist who has its own private practise, before arriving in Spirale that is.
While I specialize in epithets (my homeworlds “powers”, if you will) and how they affect the human psyche, I’ve treated patients outside of epithet-based problems before, given they’re in my capabilities, which include but are not limited to domestic issues, stress-related ones, sleep difficulties, addressing burdening traumas, treating phobias, and so on with various psychotherapies to approach such carefully. My extensive experience should prove helpful while aiding patients in this curious city.
Are you able to meet our confidentiality requirements?:
Yes. Confidentality is important, something I’d only break if a client becomes a threat to themselves or others, in which I’d notify someone who can keep the client safe, of course.
Why do you think you’ll be a good fit?:
While I’ve temporarily lost plenty of my capabilities, my Epithet gives me a natural affinity that has helped a lot in my studies. Furthermore, with proper consent, I’m capable of aiding others with my Epithet in other forms as well, be it to ease their restlessness, offer … summoned emotional support pets of sorts, or help them with controlled, harmless exposure therapy in a safe environment. Abilities aside, I’d like to think I’m adaptable and can work with the diverse circumstances everyone here has. All in all, I’d like to help with what I can do best, if you’ll have me.
“Um, listen – don’t take this the wrong way. You seem very qualified. You’re a great candidate, but I don’t feel comfortable hiring you.”
“Even if you do have your qualifications, I don’t think I’m legally allowed to hire anyone your age to a full-time psychologist position. And it’s not that I don’t believe you’re responsible, or perfectly capable, but… I think you’ll find a better use of your time not working in psychology right now, personally. I’m sorry.”
"Counting Sheep," murmured a boy to himself outside, partially kneeling as golden dust slowly fell from his hands, floating. Words couldn't express the relief he had when realizing he was still inscribed; that, despite what Mera has done, he still had his Epithet.
For a while there, he had thought he had just lost all of his hard work.
"Counting Sheep—!!" repeated for the xth time, growing more frustrated by each attempt.
Unfortunately, it had a catch nonetheless. Sylvie might still have his Epithet, but most of the training is now undone, to the point where he couldn't even manifest the dust in any other forms, or use them efficiently. While he already learned that it seems to be a common phenomenon around here, to lose most of your abilities and recover them later in the future —- it didn't stop him from trying, and it didn't stop him from getting frustrated, either.
Public Transportation here was something to get used to, especially seeing how every Ward does it differently. Consistency is overrated anyway, huh?
Waiting by the bus station, impatiently he'd glance to see how long it still took for the bus to arrive, but barely a minute passed since he last checked. As if that wasn't enough, carried by the wind, there was grey smoke..?
— the awful smell confirmed it, as his expression turned to a frown. Someone was smoking. He'd glare at the direction it was coming from, revealing a young woman with a cigarette at hand, seemingly waiting for the bus as well. "Hrrghh."
They didn't seem to notice his palpable irritation, so eventually, Sylvie spoke up.
"Can you not."
The android was, to put it bluntly, bragging. More specifically, about their database, although Sylvie wouldn't be able to repeat what they've said; he spaced out halfway, as it couldn't have been more boring. Well, it was boring, until something they've said piqued his interest rather quickly.
"How — how many various languages, again?" the sole idea of someone speaking a language someone else can't understand was a foreign one, and not one he had to worry about before. It sounded ... counterproductive, and frankly, Sylvie wasn't sure why one would be so proud about it. Aside from counterproductive, it also felt unrealistic — and so, incredulously, "That's ridiculous!"
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Sylvie glanced into the direction the young man was gesturing to, squinting at the building, a bit sceptical. "How do laws even work here, actually?"
Someone working in a law firm would know, right? "Is everything self-regulated? I didn't see much of an enforcement since I've arrived."
It was ... concerning, to say the least; from what he could tell, the city, while functional in itself, wasn't adequately prepared to welcome new outsiders like him when it comes to regulations. "They're definitely equipped for them, though ..." he'd mutter out loud. "Expected, too."
Okay, how about working a 10-hour shift on Black Friday (or your local equivalent)
SEND ME A SCENARIO
Ohhhhhh god no,
I know already that I'm bad at anything that has to do with customer relations, so if it's something like that, on top of Black Friday for 10 hours —- uhm, fuck,
I'd give my best?? I wouldn't last long but yknow—
"Reevaluate my life-choices."
"If it's impossible to reason with the supervisor that the duration of the shift, on a black friday nonetheless, is, to put it nicely, insulting — I'd have to hope I don't pass out, which ... considering my epithet has regressed ever since my arrival here, I'll assure you; is inevitable."
so! while I'm gonna work on a drabble & all that jazz, go ahead and like this post for a starter! uncapped, but i'll be a lil' selective.
(if you saw this on dash before, no you didn’t <3 i’m just trying to show up in the tags.)
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WORD COUNT: 500~
> just a typical starter-drabble of showing up in spirale.
-~ * ~-
The Impact of metal falling from the roof was more than enough to beat his last resort, forcibly waking him up from the epithet's form, now with cracked bones, body screaming in agony as he desperately struggled to get himself out from the air ducts that are squeezing his legs shut. Just don't black out. Don't black out.
He couldn't put up a fight any longer; he's exhausted all that his epithet was willing to give, and the boy was at the verge of passing out. Yet, finally freed from the stupid air duct — Sylvie couldn't just watch, Molly being moments away from losing her own epithet to a thief. He has to do something-!
It wasn't much, but without careful thinking, Sylvie reached to grab and hold Mera back, "Don't. Touch her." he'd growl, voice long tired and broken after the fighting, but assertive nonetheless. To his surprise, it worked; Mera turned around, leaving Molly in peace —- but, well. Now he was the one in danger.
A Yelp, as she effortlessly lifts him off of his feet;; distracted by the anguish, he couldn't process much from what is happening, but he felt it, how his epithet surfaced, fleeing from his core, fleeting, mentally clinging onto it — before he lost grasp, and what was once tethered into his soul, now forcibly ripped away from him, leaving him, quite literally, powerless; weak; drained.
& before he knew it,
He'd pass out.
Time passes, and he'd groan as he slowly opened his eyes. Oddly enough, he was void of the pain that you'd expect after breaking ... almost everything, in fact, it didn't feel like he broke anything at all, but so was he void from his epithet, so it seems. As soon as that line of thought had hit him; panic.
Nononono NO! This can't be happening! Did he seriously lose his epithet?! Sylvie stood up, and before he could proceed to panic about recent loss — a deep, giant, bottomless hole greeted him, instead. Distressed glancing, and, it begged the question; where the fudge is he now?
There was nothing familiar to reach for, and he wasn't even given proper time to get his bearings. "The city of Spirale welcomes you." said the driver that he only now realized was present. "Let me take you to your accommodations."
Sylvie snickered. Him? Going into a strangers car? As if! He'd continue to smile as he took a few steps back, expression only turning cold upon the realization of how close he is to falling into the hole.
Gulp.
Cursing innerly, there wasn't much of a choice, was there? Sylvie had many questions, but none of them was going to be answered should he rot away nearby ... whatever this is. He didn't like the sound of such accommodations, the sheer fact that he was expected here making him uneasy; but as much as he'd like to press for answers — best to listen,
for now.