#tyet-wings

✧: what my muse’s netflix queue looks like

Her netflix cue is mostly filled with comedy’s like ‘Grace And Frankie’ followed by romantic comedies for movies. She really enjoys them despite her attitude.

♔: my muse’s celebrity crush(es)

Send me a Ø for an inner monologue my character has had about yours.

It had been at least fifteen minutes since Carina had lost track of where the lesson was going and in response, tuned the professor out. Their words were still sort of being heard but more as a faint mumble in the background of her mind than anything else. For the time being she was staring at the back of another students  head, more than a little lost in thought.

Head in her chin and hand spinning a pencil, her hazel eyes were locked onto the other woman. ‘I wonder her old she is. Why don’t we have nametags that tell us their name and ages? I mean she was in my classes last year too but that doesn’t tell me jack shit other than she’s a second year this year. Man, this school is a weird place. For all I know this person’s twenty one---but she doesn’t look twenty one? She looks sort of young?’

☽ - a memory of their father

      A young (but not too young) Carina sat alone at a table in a large cafeteria. A new home and a new school left her uncomfortable and partially alone. Of course she wasn’t the only person there who didn’t know their godly parent yet, but it did leave her feeling a little isolated compared to the crowds of people with their half siblings. 

      The brother she’d arrived at the school with had been claimed before her and although nothing was stopping them from spending time together, she found herself pulling away over the past few months. Still, being alone was something she was used too. Instead of eating she was sitting there drawing, humming a song she didn’t know but far too entranced by her art to notice. Pencil swirled on the paper in complicated curves all ending in sharp point, leading away from a round circle

      A sudden tug coming from the inside of her chest alerted her to the fact that she was done and it was with a sharp shock she was pulled from her almost silent reverie. On the paper in front of her lay a pitch black sun drawn in a tribal setting, and floating above her head was the same symbol but gold.