#simulacrumist

CLICK. boone cocks his snipe rifle and eyes the lone figure in the moonlight. it’s LATE -- too late for travelers. he has the instinct to SHOOT first. eradicate the potential danger. problem is, the WANDERER doesn’t look aggressive. still. he can’t take chances. they pay him to PROTECT. his gruff voice echoes from dinky’s head; the dinosaur shields him from the light above the town, so it’s almost if the voice of GOD. . .

Headcanon Meme: Accepting.

ELDERBERRY: a hurt/comfort headcanon.

Quinn doesn’t get hurt, and she doesn’t need comfort. That’s the energy she works to convey, at all times. She’s the woman that’s always a step ahead, she’s the one that steps in to support and guide another along -- patient, and observant. She’s the one that shifts the control into her favor, persuades as needed, and postures herself as the stabilizing force to get things done.

Her mother taught her that life can only be survived with an iron hide. Her father taught her the value of a damn good poker face. Whatever hurts and fears are just a backlog of inconveniences towards her goal -- summarily, they’re filed away. Tucked into some remote corner that she forces herself to not think about. REPRESSED, COMPRESSED, AND BURIED. 

Nightmares were a near nightly occurrence, the lingering memories of her past deadset on plaguing her every hour - waking or not. This, however, was a rare exception. Instead of the usual torment that Glory had come to know, this was...peaceful. It was full of warmth, of love, of G5′s soft and melodic laugh. It was of a home, of a safety, she’d never known but wanted so desperately to grasp. 

And as the dream began to fade she chased it, forlorn, only to wake with a sharp gasp. In the darkness of HQ, all the others seemed to be asleep: save for a single pair of dark eyes that met her own.

“I understand you’re literate,” Dorian said, eyeing the pale young woman. He crossed his arms, and rocked back through his hips comfortably, leaning on the rows of bookcases which flanked the library tables like fortress walls. “Self-taught. Now, an autodidact is a wonderful thing, of course; I’m not saying otherwise. But the Archon has asked that I assess your knowledge, and, shall we say, shore up the gaps? Tell me, then: do you read Old Tevene? How are your sigils? Can you recite Trismegistus’s Seven Principles?”

Harper extends a hand to gingerly pat Cait on the leg. "Not asking anything. Just talking out loud like a weirdo, I guess." Her hand lingers, resting on Cait's knee. A small warmth in the cold night.

Three Headcanons Meme // @simulacrumist  // accepting

Orana will sing Calpernia lullabies that she won’t sing for the other venatori members.

If Orana has any hairstyle besides her normal bun it means that Calpernia did her hair that day.

me: has a verse with @simulacrumist Calpernia might-be-becoming-a-magister

me: ...mentally combines them