#**notes

here are some objective facts:

space is fucken neat

surprisingly, even with its long neck, the giraffe has the same number of vertebrae in its neck as humans do

the average cruising airspeed velocity of an unladen european swallow is roughly 11 meters per second or 24 miles an hour

misha’s shapeshifting is FUCKD UP

i wanted to make mishas shapeshifting kind of malleable and active as opposed to passive, bc a lot of their body language relies on being tactile, touching things, fiddling, etc. the best way i can think to describe misha’s shapeshifting is like, their entire face is just playdough that they can push and pull and rearrange as and when they please. it doesn’t hurt them, but... sometimes their bones do make Noises. when i say tactile, too, i mean they often like, flick their face to add freckles, yank at their hair to make it longer, pull at their skin to make it sit differently on their bones, etc., the same way people chew their nails or play with their hair. it’s just a fiddle for them, something to do with their hands.

they also often arbitrarily change things about their appearance mid-thread, so, for example adding or wiping away freckles, changing hair colour, maybe even just completely changing how they look. they prefer to shift in front of a mirror because they can see what they’re doing, but they don’t turn out like, a Complete Mess if they don’t have one in front of them.

BOLD the ones that apply to your muse.

i saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked  //  tyger tyger, burning bright  // i have done it again. //   do not go gentle into that good night. //  the sea is calm to-night. //  let us go then, you and i,  //  april is the cruelest month, //  pretty women wonder where my secret lies.  //  there is a place where the sidewalk ends  // i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)

two roads diverged in a yellow wood,  //  whose woods these are i think i know //  let us twain walk aside from the rest;  // once upon a midnight dreary, while i pondered, weak and weary, //   i taught myself to live simply and wisely  // it so happens i am sick of being a man //  i wandered lonely as a cloud  //  does it dry up like a raisin in the sun ?  //  o my love is like a red, red rose  //  o captain! my captain! our fearful trip is done;  // out of the night that covers me // it was many and many a year ago,  //  you may write me down in history //  do not stand at my grave and weep  //  some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice.  //  hope is the thing with feathers  // the wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees, //  no man is an island

remember me when i am gone away,  // i met a traveller from an antique land //  ‘twas brillig, and the slithy toves  // this is thy hour o soul,  //  when we wear the mask that grins and lies, //  death be not proud,  //  and death shall have no dominion.  //  laugh, and the world laughs with you;  //  the art of losing isn’t hard to master;  //  to see a world in a grain of sand  //  is there anybody there? said the traveller //  nobody heard him, the dead man,  //  that crazed girl improving her music.  //  come to me in the silence of the night;  //  where the mind is without fear and the head is held high  //  when you are old and grey and full of sleep,  //  in flanders’ fields the poppies blow  //   i thought of you and how you love this beauty  //  life, believe, is not a dream  //  it may be misery not to sing at all,  // if starry space no limit knows

come live with me and be my love,  //  had we but world enough and time,  //  my heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains my sense  //  bright star, would i were steadfast as thou art–  //  thou still unravish’d bride of quietness  //  how do i love thee? let me count the ways.  // heaven is what i cannot reach !   //  my dear, my dear, i know // in visions of the dark night //  shall i compare thee to a summers day? //  break, break, break //  she walks in beauty,  // i had a dream, which was not all a dream. // he clasps the crag with crooked hands.

tagged by:  @neonnoise in a Way tagging:  whomever ~

someone tweets like ‘anyone know a good music store’ and mishas just like