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@burned-at-the-edges
hi, I’m Elliot, Desolation guy :) welcome to my blog, etc etc
pronouns are they/them but anything that isn’t she/her is fine honestly (Mr./Mg. Crashe if you have to be formal)
I have a brother (Thomas) and a best friend (Marius)
that’s about it thanks chat
WATCH OUT!
:D
right Okay
but seriously which friend im concerned now
evil santa did infact deliver i have a sword now
remembered i have tumblr again
spiderman at freddy's
spiderman at freddy's
WATCH OUT!
:D
right Okay
but seriously which friend im concerned now
SORRY! HOHOHO I DONT KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!
WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE FOR CHRISTMAS :D
can i get a minecraft sword i deserve one
or if you can work anon magic, potions
keep fucking playing with me and your friends head is going to be under your tree, crashe.
which friend one of them is MIA and the other is in therapy
ALL OUT OF TREES. CHOOSE AGAIN.
okay i want again under my tree
HOHOHO MERRY CHRISTMAS ELLIOT WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE UNDER YOUR TREE!!!
can i have a tree under my tree
ELLIOT MY LONELY TOUCHED FRIEND I MISSED YOU
??? hi
yeah man it Got me for a while but we’re back
boo
or some other shit
tempted to rebrand i forgot i had a tumblr for a good long while
Which two OCs? (and who are they talking about?)
The shelves of the Archives are towering. They almost make one feel claustrophobic, so, so large while you are so, so small. They’re stacked haphazardly with boxes upon boxes of files filled with statements, both paper and recorded. It almost feels as if the shelves could topple, caving in on whichever poor soul wandered amongst them.
Now, this poor soul happens to be the Head Archivist, humming gently to herself as she drags her finger along the dust-covered labels of less-often visited statements. Appearing to be searching for something in particular.
A person, Elliot, wanders through the many shelves, trying to find their way toward where they think they heard boxes moving. Though, with how old the building is, it could’ve been anything.
They have a beanie tugged over their head, and their coat is straightened to go as far down as it can. This, unfortunately, cannot hide the cat tail swaying behind them with each step. They do not want to face Elena like this. Not at all.
Elena seems startled by the sudden footsteps, as quiet and cat like as they are. Even as she feels a wobbly sickness, she Looks through the archives until her Eyes settle on Elliot. Her body follows, finding them with an unsettling ease.
“Elliot.”
She smiles, seeming almost relieved by their presence.
“It’s been a while- how are you?”
Her head tilts. …Very deliberately ignoring the elephant in the room, even if she can be visibly seen trying not to laugh.
They startle momentarily before sighing, clearly embarrassed. The tail moves idly as they fumble for words, swaying back and forth.
They pretend they don't see her fighting laughter. "Hi, Miss Honeysett. I'm—" Not exactly fine. They have cat ears, for fuck's sake; they're uninjured, though, so that counts for something. "I'm alright. You?"
She rubs the back of her neck.
“Ehh.. could be better.”
She shrugs it off as if a simple case of a no-good or bothersome day. She’s unable to hold back her grin with her following comment,
“Nice uh… nice ears you got there. Are they- are they real, or?”
They wince. They had hoped she would ignore that, but alas.
"Yeah. Very real."
They glance behind them for a moment. "Tail is too. And I don't even like cats that much."
Elena busts out laughing. Doubled over, clutching at the stomach, full on laughing.
“You-he-you’re so luck-he-he-y cameras don’t work down he-he-here!”
She manages her words between giggles, tears at the corners of her eyes — good tears, for once.
They take their hat off, ears twitching as they bury their face in the fabric.
"This isn't even remotely funny," they complain, voice muffled. "I don't even know how it happened, it's just—"
They turn away in embarrassment, muttering something about this going away soon.
Elena, just barely getting over her giggle fit, is waving her hand.
“No, no, it’s not funny-hehe- it’s not. You’re right.”
She shakes her head, hand covering her mouth to sober herself.
“Don’t- Don’t let Gale…” She pauses, “Oh, whatever, you’re not getting out of this soon anyhow.”
Her grin stays, and she moves to grasp their bicep and tug them towards the stairs out of the archives.
“Please, pretty please, come with me, let me get one picture. We need one for the holiday cards.”
They pretend to consider for a moment as they're dragged along, eventually letting out dramatic huff.
"Okay, okay, just one. Got it? And on nothing but the cards," they relent.
The shelves of the Archives are towering. They almost make one feel claustrophobic, so, so large while you are so, so small. They’re stacked haphazardly with boxes upon boxes of files filled with statements, both paper and recorded. It almost feels as if the shelves could topple, caving in on whichever poor soul wandered amongst them.
Now, this poor soul happens to be the Head Archivist, humming gently to herself as she drags her finger along the dust-covered labels of less-often visited statements. Appearing to be searching for something in particular.
A person, Elliot, wanders through the many shelves, trying to find their way toward where they think they heard boxes moving. Though, with how old the building is, it could’ve been anything.
They have a beanie tugged over their head, and their coat is straightened to go as far down as it can. This, unfortunately, cannot hide the cat tail swaying behind them with each step. They do not want to face Elena like this. Not at all.
Elena seems startled by the sudden footsteps, as quiet and cat like as they are. Even as she feels a wobbly sickness, she Looks through the archives until her Eyes settle on Elliot. Her body follows, finding them with an unsettling ease.
“Elliot.”
She smiles, seeming almost relieved by their presence.
“It’s been a while- how are you?”
Her head tilts. …Very deliberately ignoring the elephant in the room, even if she can be visibly seen trying not to laugh.
They startle momentarily before sighing, clearly embarrassed. The tail moves idly as they fumble for words, swaying back and forth.
They pretend they don't see her fighting laughter. "Hi, Miss Honeysett. I'm—" Not exactly fine. They have cat ears, for fuck's sake; they're uninjured, though, so that counts for something. "I'm alright. You?"
She rubs the back of her neck.
“Ehh.. could be better.”
She shrugs it off as if a simple case of a no-good or bothersome day. She’s unable to hold back her grin with her following comment,
“Nice uh… nice ears you got there. Are they- are they real, or?”
They wince. They had hoped she would ignore that, but alas.
"Yeah. Very real."
They glance behind them for a moment. "Tail is too. And I don't even like cats that much."
Elena busts out laughing. Doubled over, clutching at the stomach, full on laughing.
“You-he-you’re so luck-he-he-y cameras don’t work down he-he-here!”
She manages her words between giggles, tears at the corners of her eyes — good tears, for once.
They take their hat off, ears twitching as they bury their face in the fabric.
"This isn't even remotely funny," they complain, voice muffled. "I don't even know how it happened, it's just—"
They turn away in embarrassment, muttering something about this going away soon.
The shelves of the Archives are towering. They almost make one feel claustrophobic, so, so large while you are so, so small. They’re stacked haphazardly with boxes upon boxes of files filled with statements, both paper and recorded. It almost feels as if the shelves could topple, caving in on whichever poor soul wandered amongst them.
Now, this poor soul happens to be the Head Archivist, humming gently to herself as she drags her finger along the dust-covered labels of less-often visited statements. Appearing to be searching for something in particular.
A person, Elliot, wanders through the many shelves, trying to find their way toward where they think they heard boxes moving. Though, with how old the building is, it could’ve been anything.
They have a beanie tugged over their head, and their coat is straightened to go as far down as it can. This, unfortunately, cannot hide the cat tail swaying behind them with each step. They do not want to face Elena like this. Not at all.
Elena seems startled by the sudden footsteps, as quiet and cat like as they are. Even as she feels a wobbly sickness, she Looks through the archives until her Eyes settle on Elliot. Her body follows, finding them with an unsettling ease.
“Elliot.”
She smiles, seeming almost relieved by their presence.
“It’s been a while- how are you?”
Her head tilts. …Very deliberately ignoring the elephant in the room, even if she can be visibly seen trying not to laugh.
They startle momentarily before sighing, clearly embarrassed. The tail moves idly as they fumble for words, swaying back and forth.
They pretend they don't see her fighting laughter. "Hi, Miss Honeysett. I'm—" Not exactly fine. They have cat ears, for fuck's sake; they're uninjured, though, so that counts for something. "I'm alright. You?"
She rubs the back of her neck.
“Ehh.. could be better.”
She shrugs it off as if a simple case of a no-good or bothersome day. She’s unable to hold back her grin with her following comment,
“Nice uh… nice ears you got there. Are they- are they real, or?”
They wince. They had hoped she would ignore that, but alas.
"Yeah. Very real."
They glance behind them for a moment. "Tail is too. And I don't even like cats that much."
The shelves of the Archives are towering. They almost make one feel claustrophobic, so, so large while you are so, so small. They’re stacked haphazardly with boxes upon boxes of files filled with statements, both paper and recorded. It almost feels as if the shelves could topple, caving in on whichever poor soul wandered amongst them.
Now, this poor soul happens to be the Head Archivist, humming gently to herself as she drags her finger along the dust-covered labels of less-often visited statements. Appearing to be searching for something in particular.
A person, Elliot, wanders through the many shelves, trying to find their way toward where they think they heard boxes moving. Though, with how old the building is, it could’ve been anything.
They have a beanie tugged over their head, and their coat is straightened to go as far down as it can. This, unfortunately, cannot hide the cat tail swaying behind them with each step. They do not want to face Elena like this. Not at all.
Elena seems startled by the sudden footsteps, as quiet and cat like as they are. Even as she feels a wobbly sickness, she Looks through the archives until her Eyes settle on Elliot. Her body follows, finding them with an unsettling ease.
“Elliot.”
She smiles, seeming almost relieved by their presence.
“It’s been a while- how are you?”
Her head tilts. …Very deliberately ignoring the elephant in the room, even if she can be visibly seen trying not to laugh.
They startle momentarily before sighing, clearly embarrassed. The tail moves idly as they fumble for words, swaying back and forth.
They pretend they don't see her fighting laughter. "Hi, Miss Honeysett. I'm—" Not exactly fine. They have cat ears, for fuck's sake; they're uninjured, though, so that counts for something. "I'm alright. You?"
