Three Goblin Art
noise dept.
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
JVL
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Today's Document
RMH
Kaledo Art
shark vs the universe
One Nice Bug Per Day
oozey mess
titsay
Monterey Bay Aquarium
izzy's playlists!
Product Placement
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
taylor price
No title available
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia
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seen from Singapore
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seen from Brazil
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seen from Palestinian Territories
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seen from Türkiye
@abel-evans
Drunk in the middle of the day, that was Abel’s usual routine once he didn’t have to take care of his daughter. Today was one of those days, he was half a bottle deep and in that everything is funny stage.
“Did you see the tributes just floating?” he asked in the midst of his laughter. “I’d love to try floating, would you?”
@caduceus-matos
Abel had just collected his collection of shirts from the dry cleaner, the collection that Emme had decided to colour while he was in the shower. They had managed to rid most of the stains, but the black marker she used on his favourite pink shirt was definitely permanent.
“Got any tips for stopping kids drawing on everything they see?”
@chip-foster
abel-evans:
“Smart” Abel smiled, and reached out to clink his bottle against her glass before he took a sip, closing his eyes as the liquid slid down his throat with that familiar burn. He laughed then at her comment. “What’s got you shit faced in the middle of the day Surya?” he asked then. “That’s usually my forte”
Surya took another sip of her wine, swallowing down the liquid out of habit for the day than any real desire to drink more. She could already feel her sinuses inflaming, but that was a problem for tomorrow. “What’s got everyone acting like what happened today is normal?” she countered. Lysander wasn’t the first Head Gamemaker to die, but she knew enough about him too know this wasn’t planned. This wasn’t some grand show to stir up Games drama, and this wasn’t an act of punishment.
“I guess we’re all a bit desensitised to death, especially while we’re in the midst of seeing it all day everyday” he sighed, taking another generous sip from his bottle. “It’s sad— even if he was a prick”
abel-evans:
Abel never praised the gamemakers for the arenas they produced, mainly because he felt it was extremely hypocritical, even if they weren’t responsible for the over all premise, but he had to admit, this one was pretty cool, even if he’d never say it aloud.
“You think aliens might appear at some point?” he asked, nodding to the screen for context.
.
Viola looked at the screens. There were no images of Vix, and Viola had misplaced her tablet. She hoped the girl was alright, but Abel’s comments about aliens gave her pause.
“As mutts, you mean?” she asked.
“Well yeah” Abel nodded, pulling his eyes from the screen over to Viola. “They can do whatever they want, can’t they? Evil aliens seem like the next step” he sighed. “How’s your tributes doing?”
Abel never praised the gamemakers for the arenas they produced, mainly because he felt it was extremely hypocritical, even if they weren’t responsible for the over all premise, but he had to admit, this one was pretty cool, even if he’d never say it aloud.
“You think aliens might appear at some point?” he asked, nodding to the screen for context.
Sirena looked up from her phone and raised a brow. “Maybe. I mean, who knows the heck is gonna happen. ‘Specially now that Lysander’s dead.” She shrugged. “I mean he was the Head Gamemaker and all.”
“Fucking crazy, isn’t it?” Abel let out a gust of air. It was crazy, and as much as he didn’t particularly like Lysander, he wouldn’t wish death on him, it was even a little sad, especially because nothing had changed even after his death— the games still went on? Unfortunately.
surya-mirga:
Surya looked at Abel, her eyelids feeling heavy between the alcohol and sugar crashing together at once. She balanced the bowl of ice cream on her knee and reached out to grab the glass of wine she’d nearly forgotten about on the floor next to her. “I’ll stick to wine. Better not to mix at this point,” she admitted. It was already going to be a difficult morning, no need to make it worse with harder alcohol now. She turned her gaze to the television, squinting a little as she tried to focus on the pixels and comprehend what was happening on screen. “I think the TV needs to be fixed.”
“Smart” Abel smiled, and reached out to clink his bottle against her glass before he took a sip, closing his eyes as the liquid slid down his throat with that familiar burn. He laughed then at her comment. “What’s got you shit faced in the middle of the day Surya?” he asked then. “That’s usually my forte”
Abel never praised the gamemakers for the arenas they produced, mainly because he felt it was extremely hypocritical, even if they weren’t responsible for the over all premise, but he had to admit, this one was pretty cool, even if he’d never say it aloud.
“You think aliens might appear at some point?” he asked, nodding to the screen for context.
Rhea and Avenue made it. At least they made it. At least there was a chance of something good in the future, if only one of them could live. A co-mentor was a built-in friend, until that ended. She could use a friend, but in one’s absence, a bottle of wine would do. And then some. Lunch and dinner had gone by, and the only thing she found appetizing was a large bowl of ice cream, to counter the slight fever of drunkenness. “I’ve discovered something very sad,” she announced when she heard someone else enter the lounge where she was curled up on a plush chair. “There are some things ice cream cannot fix.”
Abel had just dropped Emme off at her mother’s, so now it was time for a drink, and he didn’t even bother being subtle about it, carrying the large bottle of whiskey into the tower without apology. It was launch day after all, nobody could judge, could they?
“What needs fixing?” He asked, plopping himself down beside Surya and twisting the cap. “Because this stuff is like super glue”
abel-evans:
Abel raised a brow in response before he downed the remainder of his drink. It didn’t take long to knock back a whiskey on the rocks, which was always a worry really. “I’ve always wanted to try out one of the viewing rooms— so then the next day when everyone’s crowded around fighting for a seat, I can think about what happened the night before and laugh to myself”
.
Carol smirked to himself, half in amused consideration over how light the proposal was (and so doable, too), half in mockery for the choice of place itself. But borderline insults and laughing derisively were not a love language people generally knew, so he swallowed the wicked grin and flashed his eyebrows, intrigued. He wanted to have sex, it did not matter if on the floor or a bed of roses.
“Well… Do you have a viewing room you like particularly, Abel?” he joke-batted his eyelids, a smooth sip away from jumping out of his seat and taking off on an adventure of finding just the right carpet for his knees.
“I’ll let you choose” Abel answered easily with one of his famous smiles. “Let’s have another drink first though” he hummed then, holding two fingers up to order another round, even though he could see Carol had barely touched his.
abel-evans:
Abel grinned, happy Carol was joining, because he always felt a little less judged if someone was drinking with him. He watched Carol order and set his empty glass away from him, hoping the bartender had forgotten about the limit he’d set earlier that day.
“Are you making innuendos Carol?” Abel asked, raising a brow, stopping himself from grabbing the glass once it was filled, instead, pulling it slowly towards him. “Where else would I come?”
.
Carol didn’t even flinch, reaction neutral and natural as daylight while sipping lightly from the drink. It was more of a peck on the neck of the glass, really, as he was not much of a drinker. “I’m making proposals,” he explained casually, looking into the amber content of his recipient. Then he looked up with studied indifference and a serene look on his face. “Oh. Anywhere you’d like.”
Abel raised a brow in response before he downed the remainder of his drink. It didn’t take long to knock back a whiskey on the rocks, which was always a worry really. “I’ve always wanted to try out one of the viewing rooms— so then the next day when everyone’s crowded around fighting for a seat, I can think about what happened the night before and laugh to myself”
abel-evans:
Drunk in the middle of the day was unfortunately quite a usual thing for Abel. His weeks usually consisted of taking care of Emme, dropping her back to Rhi, getting absolutely shitfaced and finding himself in someone else’s bed.
This week only slightly different with being in the tower, where he did his best with his tributes, but when they were preoccupied with training or game prep, he found himself in the bar.
“You should have called me” Abel replied, but he was wearing a similar grin, his a little lopsided from all the whiskey he’d consumed. “Are you having one?” He asked, nodding to his empty glass.
.
He did not want to have one, but Abel was always in between dizzy and on another world, and his glass has been dreadfully full-on empty lately. He nodded, and this way, moved his hair out of his sight. “I have to, now. You asked so nicely.” With a circular finger gesture, he asked the avox at the bar for a refill of Abel’s glass and one of his own – whatever the other was having.
Clearing his throat, he leaned onto his palm with his cheek, watching sluggishly as the drinks were being poured in front of them. “You do come here a lot, don’t you?” he jumped straight to the chase, a mischievous smile predicting what would come out of his mouth next. “What about somewhere else?”
Abel grinned, happy Carol was joining, because he always felt a little less judged if someone was drinking with him. He watched Carol order and set his empty glass away from him, hoping the bartender had forgotten about the limit he’d set earlier that day.
“Are you making innuendos Carol?” Abel asked, raising a brow, stopping himself from grabbing the glass once it was filled, instead, pulling it slowly towards him. “Where else would I come?”
Abel Evans happened easier than expected or planned. In fact, for half of it, the conversation carried by itself, without anything past a couple of passing thoughts about how he was fairly hot. The first time they talked, Abel offered to be there for Carol, if Carol wanted to talk about the things haunting him. He never called him. He still didn’t want to talk about those things – not talk about them, at least.
Still, he remembered, sixteen months later, when bumping into Abel. About the hypothetical get-well-soon flowers, too. The hospital visit, completely unplanned. He remembered that night, as he was unbuttoning Abel’s shirt, hands shaking just slightly against skin that was so new to him. It all made some sort of bigger sense, a red thread Carol could only see when wearing the rose-colored glasses of infatuation.
The novelty was stunning when the realization momentarily slipped into his mind, in bits. Carol did not hesitate through the intrusive thoughts. Flashes of Rio, now of Holland, now of himself in this new light. His life did not feel like his own. His hands resting at the base of Abel’s neck had not looked like his own. Carol did not recognize the scent of his lips. He’d never been touched like that, either. Odd. Odd, odd, odd. But desire ate away the oddity. It silenced it for the moment. Abel’s face was louder than all the other ghosts he’d loved.
And now, bumping into each other again, this time in the Tower, did simulate a heart rush, some sort of shameless fluster as he grinned with all his teeth, in greeting. So Carol sat directly next to the mentor, his chin falling into his palm as he turned towards him. “You should have called me,” Carol cheekily called out.
@abel-evans
Drunk in the middle of the day was unfortunately quite a usual thing for Abel. His weeks usually consisted of taking care of Emme, dropping her back to Rhi, getting absolutely shitfaced and finding himself in someone else’s bed.
This week only slightly different with being in the tower, where he did his best with his tributes, but when they were preoccupied with training or game prep, he found himself in the bar.
“You should have called me” Abel replied, but he was wearing a similar grin, his a little lopsided from all the whiskey he’d consumed. “Are you having one?” He asked, nodding to his empty glass.
knoxxcarbon:
Knox wasn’t entirely sure how to answer the man. She was terrified being here but it wasn’t so much the games but the Capitol itself. “It’s just a bit overwhelming, everything is so different here.” She answered him in a low voice. “The air pressure and sunlight is a lot.”
“I never even thought about the sunlight” Abel said, gathering up his paperwork into one pile so he could finish it later, because it was clear the tribute was overwhelmed, and he thought maybe if he talked to her for a while he could ease that. “What was life like back home for you? Did you have a job?”
indyofit:
.
“Is it really a hiding place for me if you know where it is?” she pointed out, but she stood to follow anyways. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and she was desperate for somewhere people wouldn’t be casting wandering eyes on her plans for her time in the Tower.
“I won’t bother you” Abel said as he led her out towards the elevator. “But only if you promise not to shout at anybody else” he raised a brow. “It’s important we get people to like you-- you know, for Sponsor funds and stuff, we need to play the game right, okay?”
indyofit:
.
“Everyone kept barging in because they knew where to find me,” she huffed. She knew she shouldn’t shout at Abel, but she couldn’t help it, she found all of the intrusions and violations of privacy to be grating. “No. I’m not.” She offered no further explanation and stuffed the small notebook into her jacket.
Abel nodded, because he could understand it, the overwhelming feeling of everybody trying to give advice, trying to make out what your strengths were, what weaknesses you had. “I know a good hiding place” he offered, nodding towards the door. “You wanna see?”
knoxxcarbon:
Knox still kept her head down, not even lifting her head to see who was speaking to her. It seemed they would be quick and would leave soon, so she didn’t care much. She then hesitated before slowly lifting her head and looked at him. “Um, Thirteen.” She told him.
Abel was finally pulled away from the paperwork, his eyes widening at her answer. “Oh wow-- so this-- this must all be extra terrifying for you?”
indyofit:
Indy thought she’d get some privacy in a viewing room, one at the furthest reaches of one of the public floors, but she was learning quickly that there was no such thing in the Capitol. Everyone felt entitled to her space, and frankly, for a Tower so huge people were real fucking good at needing to occupy the same five square feet as she did, and it was getting irritating. The door opened, and she snapped her notebook shut on instinct, immediately clamping her forearm down over the cover. “What the fuck do I have to do around here for a little peace and quiet?!” she shouted.
Abel jumped a little at the shout, because he hadn’t been expecting that, but it didn’t deter him completely, continuing to step into the room, making sure to close the door after him.
“You might be better off in your room on the ninth?” he suggested calmly, eyeing the notebook in her hand. “Are you a writer?”
