claochlú ( transformation )

indie oc multimuse written by crow, he/him, 27.

[claochlu]

#claochlú noun. The action of changing in form, shape, or appearance; metamorphosis.

an indie oc multimuse cobbled together by ur local birdman, crow (27, he/him). rebranded from bastardsculs on 11/01/24 xoxo

I. rules II. muse page (google docs) III. other blogs: alec trevelyan of james bond (@ forjanus); nsfw sideblog (@ bcstardspice); canon multi (@ athshainigh); sports multi (@ entertainmy)

drafts: 7 asks: 11 activity: uh... hiatus lbr

[claochlu]

Xoxo the hiatus post that I didn't need to make bc we all just sorta Knew but I did make the canon multi a main and despite currently being shadowbanned that's where I'm at rn. still at eirigh. peace and love xoxo

[dirtandclay]

From the ashes, Dirt shall rise. The remnants of his fractured Bhaalspawn memory tell a story of a young Asmodeus Tiefling bullied for their sensitive nature. Deemed as no more than dirt beneath the feet of his peers, they discarded their birth name and reclaimed the insult to spite those who had belittled him. Hailing himself as “Dirt.”

do not mistake his kindness for mercy

Guidelines | Tldr: About Dirt | Dirt's Canon Story | Dirt's AU

*this blog is a sideblog! penned by Cub @halsinsgate

[claochlu]

atticus beating/not beating at the same time the boomer allegations by using a stylus w his electronic devices… is it paranoia or is it his way of being Professional? who knows 🤗

[cinematv]

You think I came here to throw it all away for you?

CHALLENGERS (2024) dir. Luca Guadagnino

[claochlu]

smth abt the smiliest sunshine king on the ice being the guy who jumps in and fights guys. comes out the other side grinning on his way to the box every single time

[claochlu]

choose  a  font  from  here  which  closest  resembles  your  character's  handwriting , and  write  their  name .

*not pictured are the lil doodles he draws in his letters sometimes (Os and Ds and letters of that sort w big holes in 'em)

[goodsirs]

Civil War (2024) dir. Alex Garland

[claochlu]

can't say i wanted us to have a provincial election called next week, but sure. why not. two elections in one year can't possibly be draining

[claochlu]

in complete fairness to every adult that’s ever been faced w tee in its Protect The Kids state of being, i too would be horrified if a black mass of Biblically Accurate Angel ebbed out from under my kid’s bed and proceeded to make me have sleep paralysis waking nightmares until it decided whether or not it was going to consume me

[claochlu]

which god chooses you ?

Spitha, the God of Wires

Their body is a bolt of lightning, electric blue and humming with power. Not human, no - could not be mistaken for that. A thing of pure light, zipping around you, never still even for a second. They crackle with energy, dancing and whirling in place, their voice buzzing and popping in your ear. "Me!" they crow. "Me! You are me! We are one! Ideas! We have ideas!" Their laugh is contagious, a high-pitched giggle of glee underscored by a deep belly laugh. "We could-then we-you are-new! You are new! New ideas! New stories!" They interrupt themself, appearing now here and now there in flashes of light. Suddenly, they are before you again, and a spark crackles from their being and onto your arm. You yelp in pain and watch as blue fire spreads through your veins, a lightning pattern against your skin, glowing in the darkness of the room. Your body is shaking, sizzling with energy, moving faster than you thought possible, your mind running at a thousand miles an hour, brimming over with new possibilities and concepts of which you would never before have dreamed. "Now!" they cry. "Come! Come! No time! No time!" Their light spreads into a rectangular shape, an open door. You reach for it, blue sparks flying from your hand. A new form. A new adventure!

[claochlu]

THE entity finds itself tucked underneath the sofa while @theresastargirl goes about her evening. Tee, naturally, finds the darkness beneath the furniture to be preferable to even the low-light of the living room. The tapping of Ophelia's fingers on laptop keys and the background noise of the television provide something of a familiar ambience for the erstwhile monster under the bed.

❛  hey, umm ... thank you for being my friend.  ❜

The clacking had stopped, Ophelia had spoken, and Tee had stuck a few of their eyes out from their hiding spot; those eyes narrow slightly, an approximation of interest and mild confusion at the sentiment.

"Friend?" it intones. "Am I your friend?" Devoid of any judgment, it's very clearly a genuinely curious question. She'd saved them, of course, but they didn't exactly have the highest regard for the empathy of humanity at the best of times. A contemplative hum echos within the mass before it speaks again. "You're welcome. Friend."

platonic sentence starters

[sophsun1]

[claochlu]

HE'S fiddling with something electrical, as he's wont to do, with all the caution and grace of a man who hasn't the faintest idea of what he's really doing. Pain has never really been much of a dissuasion for Joel, after all, and given that he's been shot before, he wagers he can handle a bit of a shock from a capacitor that's still holding some power.

Naturally, he gets a bit more than he bargained for as he just barely glances a finger over a component that is, unfortunately, still powered. He recoils with a "Motherfucker!" and proceeds to jam the finger in his mouth to soothe it. The look he directs at @cardigansandearlgrey contains an ounce of hope that the other man hasn't just witnessed his folly.

❛  you're an idiot most of the time, but you're my idiot.  ❜

Well, there goes that idea. His good hand waves away the sentiment, the tease in it that he doesn't find as annoying as he should when it's coming from Q. "Might wanna be careful 'bout what sorta idiot you're claimin' as yours, buddy" he murmurs around the digit, "If you're not careful, people'll start blamin' all my shenanigans on you. An' - no offence-" he grins, eyes crinkling at the corners, "-but you don't look like the type who could handle the sorta trouble that comes my way."

platonic sentence starters

[claochlu]

also, yes, v owning many apartments throughout the city and bouncing between them instead of settling down in any of them properly bc a) bad memories in each of them, probably, and b) he hasnt felt At Home anywhere after both leaving the bakkers and losing jackie 🤗

[claochlu]

Sometimes the duality of man is v going ‘I’m completely worthless and I should’ve died instead of Jackie; why yes u can all treat me like ass and expendable so long as ur treating me as Useful’ while also being violently and aggressively against Johnny’s initial attempts to get him to give up

The man contains multitudes and those multitudes make him a fucking mess of a man. He only barely starts caring abt himself once he has people in his life who are actually attached to him and he doesn’t feel like he’s going to lose them at the drop of a hat bc he thinks he’s the problem when it comes to being abandoned

[claochlu]

rotted that the first ic thing after me being dry af on this blog is charles, i shan't lie