- ❤ - @albaitross - Tumblr Blog

( heehaw this blog is forever under construction but. my girl is BACK !! )

status: private / mutuals only / extremely low activity muse: OC; mostly iconless + fandomless with original backstory and various verses rules / about / verses a side blog to @ abyssmalice !

#ooc ;

clown-guitar

[no beers in] do you think im ever going to belong somewhere

my vibes arent off i am cursed theres a difference

#idealistic ;

dilfdyke

love love love when a particularly manipulative character is lying off their ass about something and then throws in one hauntingly genuine line

#idealistic ;

probuccalfat

nobody gets me. not because i’m really complicated or anything but because i won’t tell anyone anything real about me

#idealistic ;

unseeelie

Fallen by Federico Ferro

#visionary ;#idealistic ;

riverdebt

❝ please, like i need any of that? ❞ a name? who cares! he'll make something up — probably something really unflattering, too. ( maybe he should write down a list? the rejects get to be magnus' nickname for the day. ) ❝ look around. does this seem like the sort of place that values fairness and conventional court proceedings? we lock 'em up and throw away the key by default here. liberty has a price tag and i can already tell it's way beyond YOUR budget. ❞ empty threats — well, mostly. it's basically the most poorly kept secret ever that the malebranche is corrupt as corrupt can be. ( but hey, is it really so different upstairs? from what he's heard, he doubts it. ) escaping the shadow of his last name is pretty much impossible, so ruairi might as well spin it to his advantage — but he'd much rather argue for arguing's sake than actually make good on any of the blustering. usually.

at least she's not levitating halfway through the damn ceiling anymore. eugh, that was freaky.

❝ not confident? all that floating through walls must have seriously scrambled your ocular nerves, lady. ❞ teeth flash in a shameless grin, as if he means to shake off the implication through sheer theatrics. ❝ no one actually cares about integrity, just how well you can sell the illusion of it. if the man makes the clothes, then what are first impressions for? ❞ magazine covers. television interviews. podcasts. it's all about selling a carefully curated version of reality — faking it until you make it! ( and faking it further still. ) ❝ that's the dirty little secret everyone pretends not to notice, you know. ❞ the demon continues aloud, punctuating the declaration with a flippant shrug. ❝ no one cares about REAL substance, they just say that they do because that's the answer that earns them a pat on the back. when it comes right down to it, most people never grow past being babies getting all excited about a set of shiny keys dangling in front of their face. ❞ that's practically the entire thesis this city is based on, isn't it? dangle whatever the humans want in their faces and watch them sell their souls for it.

❝ anyway, i'd offer you a DRINK, but i'm pretty sure it would go right through you. you know, because ... ❞ words trail off, yet ruairi finishes the thought by gesturing towards her with a hand. floaty. ❝ a tragedy, really. i would've filled it with edible glitter so it could be glamor AND substance. ❞ like drinking wet sand.

albaitross

'Liberty has a price tag', does it? Not a pleasant thing to hear, as someone who likes liberty. Perhaps it's a statement to keep in mind; she may be able to traverse the stars at a whim, but she isn't all-powerful, and the universe is filled with many, many things. And obstacles. Or just annoyances. Though, judging from how she's been floating about rather freely for the past while, she might not have any issues here regardless.

Just has to be a little careful, as always.

"...First impressions are for fools, of course," May eventually replies, airily, letting her feet just barely graze the rich carpeting. Her tone is a little calmer here, seeming reigned back comparatively. "Which seems to be a sentiment you share. How nice to find a kindred soul such as yourself."

Well, so she says anyway - between her still-big grin and her gently-spoken words, she's certainly not making it easy to determine which way she's taking anything right now.

"Aww, no drinks for me? A shame. With your fancy sense of dress and your fancy little room and your very fancy everything, I would've been interested to see what exactly your choice of offering would be. There's a difference between proposing a nice drink and actually serving one, after all."

The woman hums, clasping her hands behind her back for a moment - before, in a sharp blink, she floats right into the other's personal space, face practically inches away now. "—But since you're a very smart and handsome-seeming person, I suppose, there should be other ways to express both that glamour and substance - besides drinks, at least. You have anything fun and interesting in mind to show me, Sir Fashionable?"

#riverdebt #ic ;#may vc why should i pay for your drinks. pay MY drink first

(final review pending until she eats at a nice restaurant and sleeps in a fancy hotel probably) - continued / @riverdebt !

May nods and hums as appropriate, quietly cataloguing every word spoken into a neat little pile of theories and connections in her head. Her little smile has curved into a wider one - into something a little sharper, a little more intrigued by the picture being slowly painted to her, piece by piece.

"Afterlife, you say? That certainly explains a lot." A hum, as she rolls a few of her thoughts like dice, clattering about, before gluing them all together in her head. "Well, if you want such a honest opinion, then why not? Though do mind, I've only seen very little of your beloved city - a tourist only visits for so long before they stop being a tourist, after all. But let's see now..."

The woman folds her arms and glances elsewhere: to the glittering lights around, the dark alleyways between, the neon skyline ahead, glamour and gloom in steep but consistent contrast. The sun has had yet to show its face since the Nephilim set foot here - possibly her sense of time has become muddled, or the sun is non-existent. Or maybe they're underground? This pale stranger did say "afterlife", didn't they...

"—It's a pitiful place," she starts, blithely. Still smiling, pointed and curious, but there's a distant quality to it too now. "Pretty on the surface, dull beneath. The ratio of pleasant faces to unpleasant ones is quite uneven, if you ask me. Ah, though you might not believe me when I say that! After all, the streets are so bright and colorful, and everyone appears to be making the best of things. But behind closed doors, it seems to be a different matter?"

A pause, before the woman giggles. "Oh, I probably shouldn't have said that last bit. You can only see behind closed doors when trespassing - and from the sounds of it, you seem like the law-abiding type. But it's not my fault if the doors aren't working as they should, right? Hmm—I guess as a tourist, perhaps my number one feedback is that you should all have better doors? Unless the infrastructure of this city is meant to be so dysfunctional."

#ic ;#riverdebt #may vc tentative 3 stars i guess. maybe even 2 if i dont find a nice restaurant around here

("even God(TM) could have worn crocs better than this dude for sure lmao" - may, probably, circa 2XXX) - continued! / @riverdebt !

And taking the obvious ragebait, the man rambles back to her about his very stylish and impeccable dress sense. Or something like that. To be frank, May wasn't really paying attention - she had half an ear out to listen, and the rest of her focus was on a quick survey of the room, where she concluded that the interior certainly matched the rest of the rooms and hallways she had floated through prior to sticking her head into this one.

Quite the fancy place this was, really. The aesthetic is quite adjacent to Mr. Person With A Very Stylish And Impeccable Dress Sense And Yes That's Sarcasm. Hm. Hmmm.

"—Sue me?" the woman replies, more an absentminded repeat of the last thing she heard, before the words properly register and she grins. She starts to float the rest of herself down from the ceiling - though she stops short of reorienting herself from her upside-down position. "Hilarious. Do you even know my name? Pretty sure any formal procedure like that requires a name for the defendant. And the plaintiff too - but is your name even worth being put on some petty court documents?"

She giggles, and finally turns to a proper standing position that isn't upside-down - although, she's still floating some ways in the air regardless. "From my first impressions, I'm not sure of that. After all, a truly stylish man—one that you so proclaim to be—probably wouldn't care if their wardrobe gets any media attention whatsoever. After all, it's not that clothes make the man - it's the man that makes the clothes."

A delicate sigh, mocking sigh, as she rests her cheek in a palm. Red eyes fall into a narrow, perhaps contemplative look - or at least, if her demeanour didn't reek of an acting jester right now. "But it seems you're just not all that confident. Or all that of anything. All glamour and no substance. Or are you? Any evidence to the contrary for this court case?"

#ic ;#riverdebt #may vc if i trash talk you enough will you blabber your life story and insecurities to me :)

riverdebt

❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 … ❞ hello hello! this is a brand new blog for two 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐂𝐒 loosely inspired by 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄'𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎. ( written by avalon. ) i'm original character, multimuse and crossover friendly! if you wouldn't mind please giving this post a quick 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 or 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 if you're interested in interacting, i would appreciate it very much!