Un-hiatusing post thingy holder thing.

izzy's playlists!

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occasionally subtle
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Three Goblin Art

JVL
Jules of Nature

#extradirty

tannertan36

shark vs the universe
almost home
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

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Misplaced Lens Cap
Cosimo Galluzzi

blake kathryn
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
hello vonnie
seen from Sri Lanka

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@athorneysituation-archive
Un-hiatusing post thingy holder thing.
Humid, Rainy Flowers
closed starter @icyxmischief
Rain.
Rain and more rain, typical for summertime, which seemed to exist in two modes; blistering sun and pouring rain that soaked the streets and left the world muggy and hazy.
Not that he minded, much, the heat was oppressive and vaguely disgusting, leaving him to find some refugee in the shade whenever he had a moment. Even a nice, wide-brimmed hat did not provide much coverage when the blistering, oppressive rays beat down on every inch of your skin.
That being said, the cloud coverage and the wide, soaking drops fell to the pavement, his flowers taking the drink as gratefully as they could. Sat along the edges of the small shop he kept.
Customers came and went, but with it being close to the edges of evening, he was debating about packing up soon, tending to some of the tulips, considering whether he’d go for a stroll tonight or not.
Movement along the corner of his eye had him turning, slightly, giving a side-long glance.
“Feel free to have a look, but know they don’t look their best in this humid rainfall.”
The man … woman … ? The androgyne entity who approaches is slick from head to toe, a kind of peripheral and liminal creature who slips from memory the moment they shift a little more out of sight. One gets the sense Loki could take easy form of any adjacent shadow and blend with chameleon charms into any vicinity at all, despite the secret loneliness that plagues him. Curls that fall to his shoulders are black and soft as crow down. His lean features are sharp enough to maim, but there is something of wanness, wryness, toward the whole of the world and its workings, that makes his frigid demeanor gentler than first one might expect.
The God of Mischief–presently, he–slips beneath the shade that provides Mr. Thorne relief.
Jade eyes itinerize the wares. Long snowy fingers pluck up a snapdragon: a flower with surprising secrets within its bilaterally symmetrical design, and, well, the name appeals to a being who has a massive serpent for a son.
Skin fair as bone–itself a guise over true concentrically marked cobalt–beads with sweat in the oppressive heat. But Loki is still drawn to this particular stall, and its owner.
“Sir,” he muses, in his wet-silk voice, “are you familiar with the so-called language of flowers?”
Thorne’s smile is soft, genuine, with the faintest hint of possible intent behind it. What intent, is a mystery, perhaps as if he himself is considering it too.
After all, he’s never one to just..exist. There is always that moment of calculation. Casual, intense, some sort of mix. Never a moment that passes along in true, legitimately distraction.
Surely, some of those moments may occur. But it tends to be rare, so he wishes to think.
The figure alongside of him, casting their glances to his heavy, slightly tipped and wilted flowers is one that Thorne takes in slowly. Languid, but sharp. Narrow and willowy, but strong. Intense, clever, calculating.
He’s interested immediately, straightening to face them head-on.
Something otherworldly sits there, in this individual, and he’s allowing a moment before he coughs, gently, a slight covering of what he assumed to be quite an intense scan on his part.
“I should hope not to be working with flowers, if I did not know of their language, fine visitor.” A possible smile toying with the corner of his narrow lips. “Of course, they have many speeches, and much to say, to the willing listener..which language in particular do you wish to explore this evening?”
Humid, Rainy Flowers
closed starter @icyxmischief
Rain.
Rain and more rain, typical for summertime, which seemed to exist in two modes; blistering sun and pouring rain that soaked the streets and left the world muggy and hazy.
Not that he minded, much, the heat was oppressive and vaguely disgusting, leaving him to find some refugee in the shade whenever he had a moment. Even a nice, wide-brimmed hat did not provide much coverage when the blistering, oppressive rays beat down on every inch of your skin.
That being said, the cloud coverage and the wide, soaking drops fell to the pavement, his flowers taking the drink as gratefully as they could. Sat along the edges of the small shop he kept.
Customers came and went, but with it being close to the edges of evening, he was debating about packing up soon, tending to some of the tulips, considering whether he’d go for a stroll tonight or not.
Movement along the corner of his eye had him turning, slightly, giving a side-long glance.
“Feel free to have a look, but know they don’t look their best in this humid rainfall.”
That was good, Nate. Make a brand new character, almost launch them and then..POOF.
Well done, well done.
I have so much to catch up on here. Coming coming
The Abracadabra rose is a hybrid with maroon and soft yellow coloring, with no two blooms looking the same. It originated in Germany as a variation of the Hocus Pocus rose, which is mostly maroon with flecks of yellow.
If I had any ability (or, okay, interest) in gardening, I would plant these roses in my yard.
Mads Mikkelsen as Nigel in ‘Charlie Countryman’ 2013
~Do Come Along~
//Open Thread//
-----
Step. Step. Step. Step.
If you’re at all familiar with the way marching works, *though it does vary by army and country*, then you may be familiar with the solid, definitive walk of the man passing through the streets, the umbrella catching soft-falling droplets on it’s black water-proof material. Trickling oh so slightly down the path until it greets the pavement it was briefly able to avoid.
All things hit the ground at some point or another.
Step. Step. Step. Step.
Slow. Methodical. Taking in every moment. The solid black boots, heavy and leather, greeting the ground as if to make a statement, as if to say, ‘I am here, and I’ve left my mark’.
Step. Step.
Pause.
Hrm. Was he lost?
Poppycock.
Acacius was never lost.
But then,
Who was that?
Reblog if it is okay if your muse is hurt, severely injured or tortured in RPs.
Fictional Character: *is morally ambiguous or downright evil*
Me:
“They say, are you showing your other side..?” “I don’t believe humans have two sides, but rather, are part of one chaotic package.”
ACACIUS THORNE
INDIE OC CHARACTER
Penned by Nate
CHARACTER INFORMATION
RULES
ASK
//OPEN TO INTERACTIONS//
*insert father I crave violence meme*
I know what I’m itching for..but to accomplish this, I need to actually get the ball rolling on this character.
So why don’t I do that? *eyes emoji*
Now that I think I’m back in business I’ll be launching this blog in a short while as I’ve got most it written up, just working on the final page editions and such.
Hehehe.
Theme #1 - Primrose
Hey everyone! First theme out, I hope you like it! Please don’t forget to like and/or reblog this post if you like it or if you’re using it!
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*insert father I crave violence meme*
I know what I’m itching for..but to accomplish this, I need to actually get the ball rolling on this character.
So why don’t I do that? *eyes emoji*
Dolce & Gabbana / Fall 2018
https://www.instagram.com/p/BRYx0e_gYAV/