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@bowlfullofstars
*Stares at Espurr*
Oh, you think you can win a staring contest with this freak of nature? Espurr are particularly interesting creatures; perhaps their second set of translucent eyelids can speak for themselves. Developed as an evolutionary tactic against predators, these eyelids give the feline Pokemon an edge by elongating the endurance of its awful, empty stare.
So yes, Coffee is a damn cheater. Look at this smug little shit. Winning staring contests with nigh immortal beings.
randomtengureporter replied to your post:((Hmmmmmm hm hm. For better or for worse,...
[[I’d suggest sidelining him/her for a bit, and see if he gnaws at you. If he can grow and demand your attention, go for it.]]
((And the grackle has spoken! Yes, this is what I was leaning towards. Maybe I'll work his energy out with a few drabbles and see if he sticks or not.
Until then, I'm going to spoon-feed Murasa warm sugar water, flip her mattress onto the floor and hope for the best.))
((Hmmmmmm hm hm.
For better or for worse, another OC has planted itself in my brain, not like a deadly fungal infection. He's a vulture youkai that wears plague doctor gear and specializes in herbology. The thing is, he seems like a mish-mash of my other OCs at the very best. A bystander type of person that runs a clinic and is a bird.
Well, I've a question I've been pondering over that I need input on. Since I've already had fanciful daydreams about writing for him, should I attempt to flesh him out, because he seems promising? Or should I swat him down and tend to my cobweb-riddled muses?))
Murasa's been moved to her own blog, against my better judgement! Go play nice, mmkay?
Espurr: is there any truth to those 'war flashback' things?
""
He means the coffee table corner.
"Ms Tori! You little birds like honey, right? Have you ever tried mead?" A peace offering? Or alcoholic sabotage? Either way; good times ahead.
Tori regarded the crow man with squinted eyes from beneath the brim of her cap. She settled back into her napping position, arms crossed and and her right ankle perched on her left knee.
"'Course I have," She scoffed. "y' think 'm a fuckin' pansy? Ah'm a drinkin' champion."
In spite of never touching a drop of alcohol in her life.
Captain Murasa Minamitsu has arrived to drown you!
((I'll admit that I have not a clue what I'm doing with her, or even how to use her. So, uh, slap me across the palm with a ruler if I misstep.))
(( hold the frick still I can't play the xbox like this ))
"WHY DOES SILVER KEEP DOING THAT?!"
"I-it's no use!"
Tap tap. Yup, that's the sound glass makes when a fist is lightly bumped on. "First grey faces, now fucking glass faces. What the /fuck/ even." She's not really talking at you now FrosTV, she's talking at herself mostly. Rude Parsee.
"Excuse, me, uh,"
Tok tok.
"That kind of hurts, and…"
Thuk thuk. Her face fizzled with every thump. Small, rounded fingers trembled at the sight of nails and teeth.
“Please could you just. Not?”
Tek tek.
FrosTV arched her back, avoiding another few knocks. “Hey, erm.” She looked at the packed dirt ground, much closer than she had anticipated. “Don’t.”
"Aww, how cute. It has feelings.” Congratulations, FrosTV, you somehow managed to be shorter than the bridge troll, who is only about four and a half feet tall. For that you get a heaping helping of harassment, because Parsee is not a nice person. She made sure to bend down and lean in real close-like to its glass screen of a face and grin widely, presenting that too-wide-to-be-human set of vaguely shark-like fangs. Good thing you don’t have a nose, usually her breath smells kind of bad. "And what if I don’t? Hmm~?"
FrosTVs are build miniscule for easier traveling! Though her limbs are proportionately gangly, if that's your cup of tea; they're tracing small circles in the dirt as they swing.
Floomf. Goodness, the dirt was dusty; it coated her jacket, much too warm for the weather. She brought a broiling black sleeve to her face, wiping the fog from Parsee's disgusting breath. A distressed puff of smoke whisked from the rim between glass and plastic.
"Well, I should..." Scrape yourself off the ground and blunder off at a turtle's pace? Sure, kiddo, why not?
bowlfullofstars replied to your post: “bowlfullofstars replied to your post:I asked myself what Dmmd was I…”:
((yeah it was okay))
YOU
ARE
TOO
YOUNG
GO IN THE CORNER
GROUNDED FOREVER
BROKEN YOUR BEST LIL SIST CARD
*Gives Espurr a pokepuff*
Very sorry for the loud, excited screaming, Marisa.
espurr, what is your goal in life
""
Tap tap. Yup, that's the sound glass makes when a fist is lightly bumped on. "First grey faces, now fucking glass faces. What the /fuck/ even." She's not really talking at you now FrosTV, she's talking at herself mostly. Rude Parsee.
"Excuse, me, uh,"
Tok tok.
"That kind of hurts, and..."
Thuk thuk. Her face fizzled with every thump. Small, rounded fingers trembled at the sight of nails and teeth.
"Please could you just. Not?"
Tek tek.
FrosTV arched her back, avoiding another few knocks. "Hey, erm." She looked at the packed dirt ground, much closer than she had anticipated. "Don't."
frosTV is an official OC k
"wh
"what"
Antennas is a funny word, isn't it? An-ten-nas. Odd stress on the T, ya know? FrosTV knows all about antenna stress though, doesn't it? Yeah, it does, 'cause Daichi is actively investigating them, with much tugging and pulling.
"Er, hey, ow, ow, why do birds always do this--" Her voice cut out with a burst of static. Frantically, her small hands flew up with the intent of warding off the meddler. Slap, slap, shoo, tengu hands!
As she rearranged her antennae, several choice words broke through the wall of white noise, such as "god", "dammit", and "fucknuts". "Oh, hell," FrosTV hissed. "I'll be spending all day getting it right again! Thanks a lot!" En garde, Daichi, she is engaging you in an honorable duel of slaps!
"I have been watching for ten skydamned minutes, and I /never/ once saw you blink, Honored Coffee. How in Makai's name does that even work?"
Coffee, mustering every ounce of his intellectual prowess, answered by allowing his mouth to hang open. Slowly, a low yowl formed in his throat, steadily growing in pitch. The response came to a crescendo, fading from existence soon as it came.
He hopes that is sufficient, Honchkrow Man.
It's not exactly a basket, nor is there any food involved, but Torako's attempt at ensnaring poor little Coffee is nonetheless performed with very serious intent. "Happy cis-mess!" she joyfully exclaims, throwing the above monstrosity over the Espurr's head for a rather forceful and enthusiastic bout of gift-giving dress-up.
Black coffee. That's what the world had become. Bitter, hot, and suffocating. He screamed. The abyss swallowed it, snagging his fangs on invisible knots. The weight of the shroud was almost pleasant, if not for being trapped inside. Sweat would have began to bead on his forehead, if he could even do so.
"Death," he realized. "has come for me."
Hell no, he thought, gathering his rage, channeling it to his stubby paws and legs. He swiped, and, though he did so with all his strength, was snagged again. Coffee's anger drained from him, and fell back to his side. Death was inescapable.
A shrill, keening yowl slowly slipped through the sweater's fabric. Poor dear.
