Peter Solarz
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Claire Keane
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Sade Olutola
trying on a metaphor
occasionally subtle
Janaina Medeiros
if i look back, i am lost
shark vs the universe
taylor price
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
sheepfilms
dirt enthusiast
Sweet Seals For You, Always
JBB: An Artblog!
noise dept.
NASA
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
ojovivo
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@arthurtheauthor1
Hullo! My name is Arthur Hamish Wasserman. I am 30 years old, a single father, a struggling author,...
((Here we go. Now I feel better. If you want their old relationship we have shit to discuss find me on skype. The name is c.eire I look like Sven from Black Cat and the screen name is Cass))
Hullo! My name is Arthur Hamish Wasserman. I am 30 years old, a single father, a struggling author,...
((Here we go. Now I feel better. If you want their old relationship we have shit to discuss find me on skype. The name is c.eire I look like Sven from Black Cat and the screen name is Cass))
Hullo! My name is Arthur Hamish Wasserman. I am 30 years old, a single father, a struggling author,...
((Here we go. Now I feel better. If you want their old relationship we have shit to discuss find me on skype. The name is c.eire I look like Sven from Black Cat and the screen name is Cass))
OK GUYS
.
((Arthur is obviously not developed enough as a character, so I’ll just play with him on skype and text from here on out. Maybe I’m just being pissy tonight but this is such a fucking common fucking occurance that I’m just done explaining my MOSTLY FUCKING IMPROVED choices for MY OWN FUCKING CHARACTER so yeah. Bye.))
OK GUYS
.
((rude. this is my fort.))
((a couch fort))
((im in a fort))
Leukemia's back.
((lol that was just a drabble but I’ll have him react anyway :3))
“No! F-fuck you!” He glares at the doctor, feeling the tears fill his eyes. “We’ve be-beaten it once…w-we can do it again!”
Lizzie died.
“No.” He shakes his head, shivering. “No. You’re lying. You’re f-fucking lying. NO! This isn’t real bring her back!” His fist clench and his eyes close, but the tears fall anyway, the author dissolving into loud, anguished sobs.
“Please….please bring her back…”
Make me cry using only 2 words
Arianna...?
Chuckling, the Turk could only nod. Yes, other politicians, in a sense. But he soon listened closely to Arthur’s continuing explanation of these strange grey-faced folk who held untold power. For a moment, there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. What about the Pieces of Eden that Ezio had told him about?? Were they tied to these odd beings, who might’ve been abusing the power? But he had absolutely no clue if the Pieces of Eden were capable of such things, at least not by Ezio’s account of them.
“I… don’t understand.” That was as honest as he could get on this. A child was a child, right? “You slept with a woman and she had a child?” He didn’t see a problem here, nor any way magic could intervene. Unless the woman was magical? He couldn’t even begin to guess at what in the world Arthur was talking about, and it was all frankly starting to make the Turk’s head spin a little. Sure, he was open-minded, but this was just… a little too strange for him. He could only hope that Arthur would further clear things up for him until he actually did understand.
Arthur took in a deep breath, waving one hand circularly and scrunching his face in that awkward way when one couldn't exactly find the words to explain what needed to be explained. "Well...its not really that simple." He wondered if Yusuf was from this time period...would condoms make sense? He pursed his lips.
"The woman I laid with was actually...not a woman. She was at the time, just as I was when you met me." He gave a little shrug. "Ciel is usually predominantly" hermaphroditic alien "male, more or less, but was fully female as well as being very much aroused due to another spell. As we lived together I was the logical choice to be with. I used...protection and then, another spell was enacted that ensured her pregnancy. Then another that made the gestation period much faster...and his aging process much faster as well. Though he is not yet a year old he looks about the age of my other child, around four." Of course Arthur had pictures, and pulled one out to show Yusuf, pointing at the little curly haired girl on the left saying "My natural born daughter Elizabeth" Then to the brown haired boy only slightly younger on the right "And my infant son Kal."
In the Cafe
Even Dimel had a chuckle over the need for books. “A man after my own heart.” Then after all of his talk about his home he let out a typical heart-felt sigh. Even his latte couldn’t cheer him up when the wave of nostalgia hit.
“Caramel is even common where I come from. As is chocolate and most others. The similarities between here and their are disturbing in their quantity. So many things, even languages, are alike. If they weren’t I wouldn’t be able to talk to you fluently like I am now, since I’ve only been visiting or staying here off and on for nearly 15 years. I miss home from time to time, but I live with a human friend from my same country so it’s not as bad.”
Oh, was that a sigh or was that a sigh? Arthur tilted his head slightly, observing the elf. "At every corner a memory trapped in a similarity, jolting you from present to past." He murmured softly, almost to himself, filing that phrase into the back of his mind so that he could use it again later. It sounded pretty.
He shook his head slightly to get out of writer's world, running his hands through his hair and fluffing it upwards somewhat, increasing the mad author look. "You must be terribly homesick." Arthur decided, nodding decisively. "Will you ever return?"
Her frown made Vash worried, but only for a moment. She managed to find a key under a rug on the front porch, and held it up to display her victory proudly to the cat.
“Heey, good job!” He said, being more than willing to humor her in her escapades. Especially if it got them inside! It took her some effort to open the door at her short stature, but she managed surprisingly well. In any rate, she did much better than he could have realistically hoped to right now.
Of course, the first thing that happened as they entered was that a giant pile of books toppled over…. oh well, he could take the blame for that if Arthur was really all that upset about it. Call it an accident… since after all, it was.
He followed her instructions, entering the house with a quick and light step. He was a fast mover as a Plant, so it was sort of inevitable that he’d have that same element to him as a cat. Another cat was there to greet him, assumably the one Lizzie mentioned earlier. He gave Vash a look that he couldn’t decode the meaning of. Darnit— why couldn’t he learn to speak cat or something? That would have been awesome— and convenient at that! He meowed at the cat, wondering what exactly it had in store for him.
The other cat was scooped into the little girl's arms and hugged tightly, he gave a loud merow of annoyance. He wriggled in her arms, finally falling to the ground, landing lightly on his feet. "Now Rainbow you gotsta learn how to talk from this kitty, he's my auntie now you gotsta learn so we can talk at our tea parties!!" She said excitedly.
"OOOO TEA! Daddy says we should always make tea when we gots guests over!" Lizzie, not knowing how dangerous that would be for a four year old to attempt, rushed into the kitchen to attempt it anyway. Of course, the first obstacle would be the height of her self, unable to reach the counter. The little girl pushed a kitchen chair to the counter and clambered up onto it, then onto the counter.
Rainbow gave Vash as significant a look as he could. He tried to convey 'don't let her make tea she's four' as well as 'i'm a cat I can't talk' all at once before he meowed once more, flicking his tail and padding into the kitchen, meowing up at Elizabeth who scampered along the counter.
Pixies at the Park
As Lizzie listed her plans for the flowers Malachi’s eyes lit up. That was exactly what he did with flowers when he picked them as well. Of course, when he planted them they actually did grow again so he saw no reason to correct the little girl. As far as he knew he’d found a kindred spirit.
“My name is Malachi,” he lilted, softly enough that he wouldn’t betray their hiding spot. He heard the father call out for Lizzie again. No doubt the man would begin to worry after losing sight of his daughter, but to Malachi it was all just a game. And hide and seek was his favorite.
“Is your da very good at hiding games?” he asked Lizzie. Hide and seek with humans was always painfully easy. A little magic and they never knew he was there. Perhaps this time Malachi would play fairly.
"Mali...mala..." She huffed, his name was difficult. "Mally-kai." There. That was good. She smiled in accomplishment and got on her hands and knees to peer around the tree. She giggled and darted back when Arthur caught sight of her, pretending that he hadn't.
"Daddy's the bestest at everything." She said, obviously in the hero worship stage of her childhood, daddy's little girl. "Except that sometimes he sets things on fire and forgets stuff." she added conspiratorially, because both of those things were so blatantly obvious to even her in her youth.
Arthur shook his head and smiled. "Now where could my lovely little girl be? I hope the goblins didn't get her!" he sing-songed, just loud enough for them to hear. "Or worse! She walked down the faerie paths and is lost to me! Oh gods, I could not bare such a thing!" His grin grew wider when he heard her giggle again. He checked behind several trees that he knew she wasn't behind and finally jumped into their sights. "There you are!" He crowed, showering her in the flowers. "Oh, hullo, who are you?"
Cecilia rolled her eyes with a huff as he called her a ‘child’. It was a sore spot for her, especially coming from him. It was an easy card he could pull if a conversation of theirs ever went sour. Ignoring his talk of how spoiled she was she tried to tackle his rantings of being so helpless.
“Arthur, have you even tried looking for help? Have you even heard of welfare?” She asked him, honestly a little baffled at his situation. She knew she couldn’t understand what Arthur had already been through (which she took with a grain of salt…) But surely he wouldn’t just completely skip the chance of filing for any form of benefits? “Especially with your children Arthur, they’re are tons of benefits and allowances just for them. Even if you didn’t have kids there’s unemployment benefits! As a citizen you’re entitled to benefits until your writing career picks up.” She was practically preaching to him now, trying to help him. “I mean, for goodness sake Arthur, we have a national healthcare system to! Therapy and treatments for whatever demons you still have.” Trying to sugarcoat his situation was gone now, Cecilia was just trying to talk any sense into him. “I know you love your kids and all Arthur, but do you really have to keep putting yourself into these situations? There’s other ways you can get help. Even if this guy does provide for you and your family, are you really safe? Who’s to say he won’t just get bored of you or Lord knows what else. Honestly Arthur, you have other options.”
"Oh yes, did you notice my accent, love?" He asked her, tilting his head. "i'm not actually a French citizen, yeah, big shock. I'm here on Visa as are my children. Well not Kal, because Ciel is a citizen, I think. But yeah, you know how hard it is to get a work Visa? Bloody hard with my government as in yours! And I can't bloody well go back to London, my family has much too much of an influence for anyone to even think about hiring the social disgrace that is Arthur Hamish Wasserman. Oh no, Cecilia, I am unfit for society." He couldn't get welfare, he was technically employed as 'author' was a legitimate job as was 'bookstore clerk'.
"This isn't all I do for my money. I commute four hours round trip a day to work at a bookshop in London, the only place that would hire me, after of course getting Lizzie and Kal ready for the day, making them food, dressing them, carting them to ballet and football and gymnastics and school and to their friends...I have a blog now too, that takes time, I barely have any time to think let alone write..."
He huffed. "Yes. He's dangerous. He's possessive. He's something out of this world and so very angry." He was panting and looked down, shutting his eyes tight. "He very well kill me but I c-cannot..." He shut up before going on. "I am not going to take advice from a nineteen year old." He growled, turning on his heel and stalking off.
Trapped.
He was Trapped.
“I imagine it would take a little creativity and a delicate hand.” Spoiled girl. Evangeline smiled at the author’s description. She never knew that feeling, being an army brat swiftly set straight without hesitation by her father. Everything was always ‘Yes, sir’ or ‘No, sir.’ Her mother gave a little leeway when her father was deployed, but not nearly enough for a stubborn teenage girl.
Two weeks should work out well, she mused; although she was impatient and full of excitement for their little dinner date. Plenty of time to get everything in order and the brunette had been planning to dance this Saturday anyways. “That should be fine. There’s an amateur night this Saturday at Secret Square. I am intending to decimate the competition with my moves.” Evangeline demonstrated, turning one-eighty and bending at the waist, letting nimble hands trail up the back of her thighs, flicking dark hair and shooting a smouldering gaze at Arthur over her shoulder. Playing amateur was an old trick. Bored exotic dancers would enter amateur night contests at other strip clubs for extra money
Arthur chuckled, holding up his hands with a flourish to indicate that he had both of those. His long pale fingers didn't look like they had worked very hard in their life, though they were writers callouses and ink stains along them, veins and knuckles standing out.
A single eyebrow rose at her demonstration. The author wet his lips, and a slow smile spred across his angular features. "Well darling, I think that you'll do very well." he complimented her. "But I do not think you would win, if say, I were to join in the fun?" he chuckled slightly and slowly sank down, kneeling on one side, the other leg sliding straight out, one hand pressed sensually against his thigh and moving up. "But then again." He stood suddenly and straightened his vest. "I don't have the appeal of your body." He was no where near a professional erotic dancer, but he could beat many amateurs if he truly wanted to.
