▉oD M-r- ()g H^r ▉ tod s NEEEEEWS

I rarely - if ever - use icons here. Posts are also rarely overly formatted. My focus is on writing with my RP partners, not on the "aesthetic of my posts".

Everything is under permanent construction as my ADHD got hands and it surely wants to take me down! Sorry! Feel free to just DM me if you want to know about characters/plot something/etc.

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Dunno who can even see this post (and I'll queue it for a week or so) but if you do and you'd like me to follow you over there, like this post so I can do that! Otherwise I'll just follow the usual people.

This is so very awkward re: timing but I must prioritize my own comfort instead of waiting on the whims of t*mblr support. If they unblock me next week great, I can go back to this blog. If they take longer I'll just be hanging out over there. I'll give it 2 weeks while I hang out over there, and if they don't do anything I'll just transfer my url over there </3

Tumblr: (shadowbans me)

Me:

"Let me go." He growls, knowing that armored hand grasps his arm tightly. It is not oppressive. It's just... overbearing. Overwhelming. Violette feels cared for, and that is frightening. Terrifying. It's not that different from how Octavio deals with the other kids that were unfortunate enough to be left to the Torrent, though most of them are just delivered to a safer place. A few decide on the harsher road, though.

To toss yourself into a path where no one returns from. Not the same. Not whole. Perfect, but not whole. Violette hisses, struggles until he breaks free from Octavio's grasp. Like that, he almost looks like a rabid animal. Desperate. Terrified. Cornered. Fangs bared. There is something to be said about lack of discipline, and a boy who has no hope. Something to be said about violence. It is all he knows. He would not have crawled out of that hole if people did not rescue him. And now here he is, surviving simply because strangers took pity on him.

Violette hates it. He hates it so much that all that hatred is pointed everywhere at once. Eventually it will hit something.

"What do you care if I want to leave? Obviously I am not a good fit. I can't wrap my mind around the way you all act. Or how you act. Or how and why it's important. It would be much easier for you if you did not have to look after me."

After a rebellious, traumatized child. Violette wants to explode again, to yell that all of this is bullshit. But he knows that this would do nothing for him or his situation. He can kind of... understand. The principles of it. Some of it. But it is too easy to see red, to let his own emotions take control.

"You can keep telling yourself that. Doesn't mean I believe it." Emil's words bounce off him with practiced ease. Ran slaps his back with more force than needed - or perhaps not. Maybe what Emil needs is truly someone to shake him until he feels real again.

"You've been sleepwalking for too long, y'know? Living a life that is not yours. That should not be yours." Another brutish slap, and he sits down with a toothy grin. Pushes some food forward. It's not much (it never was), but it's enough. "Listen here. You do not decide things for me. What is better for me and what isn't.

You tried. Tried really hard to keep me away. And if I thought it was really dangerous - if my men thought it was dangerous - I would have rightfully pulled back. Stopped talking to you. No matter our history, I need them to survive. They're kids, they're people who believe in a different future. But they agreed on my stupid, reckless plan. Some of them hate you, yeah.

Would be hard not to, after it all. They call you a backstabbing son of a bitch, insist on telling me that you will put a knife to my back because you keep switching sides. Well?

I usually tell them to shut the fuck up. Just like I am telling you to do the same right now. Enough of insisting I'm getting involved with things beyond my comprehension: I know. I know, and I don't care. And the people who are glad you are back don't care, either. After spending such a long time with me, you should at least know how I function... huh. Whatever. Eat. You look like shit, and we have things to do today.

It's great that this person does not mind the way he behaves, but it seems more like because he is busy with something else more than anything. Dia follows Malleus' gaze until he finds out what he is busy with.

A magical item of sorts? Diamont has never seen anything beeping like that, this he knows. Probably another spell woven into it so it could produce noise--or--maybe--- -

-- he seems to lean closer with every theory, until he is basically glued to Malleus and the gadget he holds. A prized possession? While normally he would argue that there is no point in liking something with no power, he is... not that different. Abruptly, he fishes for something inside his backpack and extends his left arm. Holding out a small orb, floating above his hand. It emits a gentle light, magicked carefully by an expert artisan. It is obvious that is just a toy, or maybe a souvenir.

"Can I see it? I will not break it. You can have my favorite thing in exchange while I am looking at yours." It's a fair exchange. He is very curious about it, mind you. A glimpse at the screen revealed a... small dragon? Something like that?

And the beeping was certainly something he would ask the stranger about.

...