#pullulant

Send me a ✿ and my muse will react to your muse putting a flower in their hair

  “A flower!! It’s so cute!”

✖ - Who is someone they just cannot stand?

There’s a couple of people he can’t stand, but the most relevant person at the moment is Maxwell from Don’t Starve. Aside from the fact he’s a huge jerk who thinks he can own peoples’ souls, Emizel hates his smug face and personality.

♔ - Do they value loyalty?

Yes, it’s hard to be a good leader if the people who are supposed to look to you aren’t loyal. Trust is important to him, and a big part of loyalty is trust.

♕ - Do they trust easily?

The guise of a real therapist had gotten the Undertaker this far in the hospital. His new little rat was a pleasing abduction due to the fact that he seemed to not have fought back, which made it even easier for the grim reaper to have his way with him. Finding a room much like those that are in asylums, the strait jacket was placed upon the victim, and he was immediately led to that room. Locking the door, the Undertaker made his way to a higher level, in which he’d be able to watch the reactions his dear experiment made and speak to him. The technology of the hospital was unfamiliar to the Undertaker, but he would adjust to it. 

As simple as it was, it was also quite useful. Pressing the button so that his voice could be heard, the mortician leisurely sat in his seat, hat being tossed aside in order for more comfort. Voice was leveled and lower than his usual creepy and obsessed tone, the Undertaker taking a more normal stride for this current victim of his. “Julian,” Was said in such a way that it seemed like a casual greeting between acquaintances. "How are you today?”

pullulant

     ♚ What were those? Cat ears? Was this light dweller part feline? What kind of mixture of a person was he? The Twili woman did not understand at all, did someone mix two races that she was unaware of? Or maybe they were fake. Yes perhaps that was it, that had to be it. These foolish light dwellers couldn't be foolish enough to make themselves mixed in with a animal.

     ♚ Well she was going to find out for herself anyway in the meantime. 

     ♚ " ...Are those even real? " She said as she just invaded the boy's personal space. Of course she wasn't even really caring if it'd make the other uncomfortable or not. Then of course she reached her hands up to his head and softly put her hands upon his ears. " They feel real... "

11. One bad part of writing alone?

I have no focus nor ability to pull together a long-term plot if I'm the only one contributing. I do love to write my own things because writing something with all the characters in your control is a totally different thing from RPing, and it allows for much greater flexibility and usually more detailed, intricate plots.

Unfortunately, I am terrible at actually executing plots. I'm so, so character-focused you wouldn't believe. It's a fairly major fault of mine in writing, actually, because I spend so much time just in the characters' heads that it's hard to get around to making things happen. This is...more a bad part of writing alone for me than in general, though; some people do much better with plots like that. I just. Can't, really. I'm probably going to try again eventually and I can plan them out pretty alright, it's just? Writing-wise, it's hard for me.

That said, I've done a lot of short stories and slice-of-life things of which I'm proud, and some lengthier recovery-focused stories because that is right up my alley of bit by bit developing and changing characters in an extremely in-depth way. i love recovery- and coping-focused stories a lot, they will kill me one day; that is also probably a big part of why that's usually an aspect of characters i roleplay

12. One bad part of writing with others (roleplaying)?

I have no focus

To be blunt, the disappointment of a partner who does not even put effort into interaction kind of stings, [sips tea] but that's just me

...and here's a cut because the expanded answer got weirdly personal and Idk how to feel about that

"You were not useless and you are not useless."

"Excuse me, Missy?" She looked towards the stranger and he looked back. It's only when he returned her glance did the child realize that it was in fact a dude, not a girl. 

pullulant

[ ✥ ]—— It was a long travel from the other side of the city, but those hours in the train were worth it. Sector Six is just as he'd been told: a vast green scenery, clean and pure, with few buildings and several spots where one could lay down on the grass and take a rest. The stench coming from the district he'd been forced into doesn't reach his nose, here. Everything is a small paradise where he could relax and forget about his grieving situation for a few hours.

      The people living here sure are lucky, Wataru thinks to himself while walking across a path of flowers, neatly placed by color shades as if someone had been tending to them. He eventually finds someone else standing nearby, looking over the plants just as he is. The two protuberances on top of the stranger's head rouse weird curiosity in the Rider, but just as she decides to not pay attention, something that definitely resembles a tail comes into view, and he can't help but stare for a few moments. 

      He won't gape for too long. After all, he used to have the Arms Monsters serving him back home, and he interacted with enough non-humans that he should be used to the idea that not everyone here is of human race. Even so, a man with that kind of ears and tail is still a new sight to him.