Embracing the cosmic self

image by @hauntedreality​

This roleplay blog is for Zora Andrews, an original character influenced by Welcome to Night Vale along with afrosurrealism, cosmic horror, scifi and other miscellaneous sources - a prominent one being GTA V. Willing to crossover into multiple verses. 

Context for that here.

Written by a 21+ mun. Rules, about and navigation are linked below for further exploration. Also willing to write on Discord, if you’re interested in using that medium feel free to DM me about it. Tries to use beta editor by default.

 Rules

About     

Navigation

memes

optional sideblog (for those who prefer to do nsfw on side.)

verses

Like there are moments where people will say something thats supposed to be meaningful and z is like...

To spare yourself and me let me get out of here. Quickly. Like they have patience for s lot but they do reach their limit and have to be like. I gotta go. They usually do at least try to give someone the heads up they need a moment for space.

Going between worlds always made for an interesting situation. Zora had been between so many realms but ... being in this one, felt oddly familiar but different at the same time.

They brushed off their knees as they gathered their bearings and slowly started to look around. This sort of high fantasy feel was certainly different from what they had been used to - but there was still plenty to see.

And it is with that, they tried to go find the nearest place where others would be. Just so that they could potentially get a better handle on this world and what they should know about it.

damn, damn. i had gotten a bit rusty from doing those kind of jumps after all. hm.

it had been sometime that they had gone elsewhere for a few days. but goodness, it has done some wonders for them. that being said, they are still shaking - slowly following their breath to gather themself.

they remember vividly the images of connecting with a distant contact that they had visited years ago, about seeing how much had changed in such a short amount of time.

but that impulse to just roam for a little while, to have a few days for themself was something that still sparked up in them every so often. perhaps it was a reminder of the vaster presence that couldn't be denied or ignored in their day to day life.

maybe it was a reminder of the images that ran through their head no matter if they were awake or not to experience it.

these kinds of sensory experiences, these messages - this way of navigating the world often was a lot larger than they could convey on canvas. they often tried. they did try... but even in their most intense works, zora found themself staring at the results and recognizing the clear impossibility of translation.

that it wasn't going to stop them from trying their best.. but ...

it's almost like they had to re-examine what they wanted to do with their work, with their perception and what that meant for their day to day life.

and here they were still in the alley, taking a few breaths, still trying to prepare themself to go back to the 'real world'.

Zora was trying to get some relief. To sit down in the shade for a little while after having worked a street fair for a few hours. They don't regret those kinds of activities - but in this heat, it was hard for them to really feel contented. Even if they are technically long used to higher conditions.

Cumin

You see yourself so clearly that you can see the gaping hole inside you where you lost a piece long ago. It's there and it's ragged and painful and bleeding and you don't know how no one else can see it when it takes up so much of your awareness. You run from it, fight it, try to find it but nothing bandages up that hungry mawing void inside yourself and when you're tired, uninspired, you swear it grows and grows.

You promise yourself you want to be alone, promise yourself that you want to be different, want to be special, love having this hole inside you and point it out in words or song or jokes and stories and take pride in that pain, in your uniqueness in this world of grays and storm clouds.

You are 5 am rain on asphalt roads and sputtering street lamps. You are petrichor musings and messy guitar chords and a thousand contradictions wrapped inside a quiet cry, an evening of coffee and jittering hands and a promise that you're okay or that you're fine until you're falling apart in someone's arms or messages and pretend you're alright in the morning. You taste so strongly but sometimes you wonder if all you are is ash.

taken from @alleyspat

zora had been focused, in the zone trying to beat howl at the racing games that they had been playing in the living room. they had already won a few rounds, not even caring much for the kind of whining he was doing in response.

only for him to have some some decent luck and catch up with a few victories of his own. they sneered as they took a few bites of from the variety of snacks that they had with them, needing a little bit of energy and a chance to get their focus back.