#overlordish

Dictatorish: A gender that is, itself, a dictator

Overlordish: A gender that is, itself, an overlord

Tyrantish: A gender that is, itself, a tyrant

The colors are inspired by my associations with each gender’s title

🪥 What’s their most oddly specific daily routine? / microfibre cloth....

hmmm. the entire time he's doing like showering/teeth brushing(...? maybe not that one) etc he's scanning all the big news/pop stories from while he was asleep. he likes to know what's coming for him. what is he Fixing today. i don't think he brushes his teeth tbh i think he sticks his head in those uv cleaners people use for phones. but like bigger. then again his mouth is like...organic...

🪨 What’s the hardest choice they’ve ever made? / man .

MAN well vincent committed his first murder as a teen right and like. the murder itself was NOT hard to do (fucked up the brakes on the guy's car. tbh. and felt no guilt about it afterwards either). the difficulty was more in coming to the conclusion that this was his best choice. don't get me wrong vincent is INSANE but he didn't have a lot of the warning signs you'd expect in childhood -- his dad killing someone kind of numbed him to that. actually i think he in many ways ALSO resents the guy his dad killed for like...being too easy to kill. anyways i'm still working out the exact details but in my head this guy was like class president and all <3 and everyone loved him <3 and vincent WAS obsessed with him and wanted to be him so badly. and he just simply never could be him so instead he killed him and jumped into the resulting vacuum. yay

🗡️ What’s their “I’ve killed for less” trigger? / SOOOO TRUE

"you'd like that, wouldn't you?" alastor gets worse the longer he's sat in this chair. if vox trusted him to keep up his end of the deal, he'd take him on a little field trip, let him get some of that anger out, but as it is, he's staying in the tower. which means vox gets to hear his every attempt at riling vox up. which, rather unfortunately, means vox gets riled up a lot.

they did talk about it, ages ago, after val had already heard the story from maestro or whoever. someone talking to cassian, probably, unaware that val at the time listened a lot more than anyone thought he did. alastor turned down an offer to work together, and he took it so badly, probably, big emphasis on how bad he took it. how he came out the bad guy in that little ordeal, he still doesn't understand. and since then, it's been casual, this fucking guy, because what is there to say? "we were two guys who knew each other, now we hate each other. nothing interesting to talk about!"

he's such a dear, isn't he? now, listeners, alastor wouldn't usually use sentiment so casually (oh, you know, it cloys!) but there's something about the way vox takes to it that really spices the pot. he spins in his chair, knees tucked to his bound chest so he goes good and fast, letting the blurred smear of vox's screen fizz in and out of view. seems only fair he see vox the way vox sees him! "yes, isn't that right? some of you were." the joy is being drained from this particular jab, but it gets vox so hot every time. work smart, not hard, as the saying goes. "how lucky, that your bespectacled friend went out and found your little pocket-witch to manage your medias! as i recall, you struggled with being stationary. now you're easily digestible."

"evenin', ange." romero's swinging his legs from atop the black baby grand he's calling home tonight, lifting one hand in a lazy little wave. "girls're getting set up in the back, if you wanna head in." it's always a treat to play for angel. they flow together like water, neither one really leading or following, like the notes they share are the path of least resistance. before angel can disappear, romero's ears perk up. "shit, hold on! i wanted your opinion on something." he hops to the floor, rooting around in his waistcoat for a moment. his shoulders hunch protectively as he finds what he's looking for and drags the small velvet box out into the light. "for sef. i… i dunno. i thought it was about time."

it takes him a moment to figure out what he's looking at, but when he does, he gasps like he's the one being proposed to. "no, you're not! oh, she's going to be so fucking ecstatic." he shoves romero's shoulder, lightly, not trying to fuck up his piano playing in his enthusiasm. he looks over that shoulder then, like seffy has any reason to pop out from where she's busy getting ready, and holds out one hand for the box, fingers fluttering impatiently. romero can't pull out a ring and expect angel not to find out how it looks before seffy shows it off to the rest of the crew. "dunno what you're getting my opinion for, you already got the ring. are you proposing today? tis the season.

truth or dare's easy. he's never met a dare he wasn't willing to do ( and only a few he hasn't already done ), and he never volunteers a truth, so he's never had to turn on down. it means he's only fun to play with if you're aiming for a show instead of humiliation, but everyone at the magic kat loves a show. angel's curled up on the stage, one of the house's coats wrapped around his shoulder, and the house -- he's doing whatever boring stuff he does when he slinks off into the back of the building. angel's not been invited that far, yet. his staff must not think he'll be gone for long, though, since they've invited him to stay. he peers at whoever this is through the smoke, trying to remember where he's seen him, except in the crowds during his proper shows. "be nice. maybe they're nervous, playing with such an expert."