ooh, nobody, nobody

[domestxcas]

𝑮𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑰'𝒎 𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅...

domestxcas;   a question of a life lived.  a   dependent   muse   blog   for grymmrp, as   penned   by   π. caution for themes & triggers of : death, delusion, depression.

viewer discretion is advised.

¹ skeleton.   ² intro.   ³ threads. 

⁴ tasks.   ⁵ starters.  ⁶ accepted memes.

𝑰 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕…

© header template by imnikkkiheat.

! the perspectives of the muse & narrator are not shared by the author and do not reflect the author's opinions.

[niravenous]

There are some things about the world of the living that can remain there. The queue is one of them. It's a bit funny really, that with all the seemingly infinite time and resources the afterlife has to offer, the Magistrate hasn't found a better way to manage a bunch of souls attempting to access a single resource. Instead, they do what every other bureaucracy in the world has ever done and ferry them into a single file line.

Normally, Rav wouldn't have anything to do with it, but long-term access to the Living world without Swan or the rest of the Magistrate looking over his shoulder and tsk-ing at the amount of time he takes to leisurely collect soul, it's too good to pass up. So Rav makes the trip, tramping through the streets of Near Vain, all the way up the steps of the magistrate's office. By the time they arrive, the line is already an interminable length. For a moment, they consider turning around. They're dead. Time is seemingly infinite. This is still a total waste of it.

For awhile, Rav is able to let their mind wander, filtering the buzz of people shifting and gossiping out as he stares up at the ceiling. Then, something new happens. Someone drops their letter and steps out of the line to fumble for it. They recognize Pigeon, her fluttering gray wings and nervous, moth-like energy. Rav watches with bland, distant interest as she gathers up her letter and attempts to step back into line. They raise a dark eyebrow at her request. "Is that how you intend to capture the first soul to slip through magistrate's fingers in all eternity?" They ask, head tilting. Behind them is a snaking line of Grymm, most of them some form of irritable or impatient. Rav takes a step back anyway, not minding that it puts them into the space of the person behind them, causing the whole line to begin fumbling backwards. "That's why you're here isn't it? To hunt Psyche like all the rest of us?"

[domestxcas]

THEIR   QUESTION   IS   PENETRATING,   in   a   manner   only   reserved   for   those   with   consummate,   unvacillating   assessment.   pigeon   should   consider   herself   lucky   that   she's   crossing   wings   with   a   veteran,   magpie,   with   all   their   timeless,   eons-worth   of   expertise,   but   rav's   candidness   always   did   put   the   woman   at   unease.   more   so   than   her   usual   given.   a   mix   of   celebrity   cachet,   and   the   unspoken   truth   that   many   at   the   department   of   afterlife   affairs   cannot   read   enigmatic   magpie.   demerara   laced   with   bergamot.

maira   visibly   gulps,   wondering   how   to   answer   the   other   grymm,   if   there's   any   way   to   save   the   little   face   she   has   left   after   encroaching   him   with   her   request   in   the   first   place.   seeing   as   though   she's   mortified   herself   a   few   seconds   ago,   she   tiptoes   her   way   back   into   the   line,   ignoring   the   rows   of   annoyed   stares   just   behind   magpie,   willing   her   brain   to   come   up   with   something   that   has   a   semblance   of   confidence   ...

“   ⁿᵒ,   ᶦᵗ'ˢ   ⁿᵒᵗ   ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ   ᵐʸ   ᶦⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗᶦᵒⁿ...   though   it'd   be   nice   if   Psyche   would   be   cooperative...   ᵉʳᵐ,   ⁿᵒᵗ   ᵗʰᵃᵗ   ᶦ   ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ   ᵗʰᵉᵐ   ᵗᵒ   ᵇᵉ.  not   many   go   gently   into   ᵗʰᵃᵗ   ᵍᵒᵒᵈ   ⁿᶦᵍʰᵗ...   ”

after   squeaking,   pigeon   frowns   a   little   and   waves   off   a   strange   throb   at   the   right   side   of   her   temple.   something   feels   amiss   yet   forgivable,   like   miscounted   change   a   cent   off,   a    mistaken tea order of   earl   grey   for   english   breakfast.   queasy   from   the   feeling   and   wanting   respite,   she   tries   to   brighten   up,   lift   up   her   wings   in   lieu   of   her   spirit.

“   well,   of   course,   Their   Eminence   has   tasked   us   with   such   an   important   mission,   after   all.   it'd   be...   wrong   for   us   grymm   to   turn   away   from   our   responsibilities.   i   think   it's   rather   sweet   that   we're   all   in   this   together...   shows   the   strength   of   our   community   here   at   the   department.   ᵘᵐ,   teamwork   makes   the   dream   work,   doesn't   it?   ”

[domestxcas]

—✦ open!

✦ setting: department of afterlife affairs, collections office, mission lobby. ✦ timeframe: quoth the raven. ✦ content warnings: references to anxiety.

FEATHERS   WHIP   UP   IN   A   FRENZY.   a   day-to-day   occurrence   for   many,   made   most   peculiar   by   the   sheer   frequency   and   volume,   bridging   the   gap   from   the   mundane   to   the   extreme   in   the   always   industrious   sector   of   the   department   of   afterlife   affairs.   maira   — pigeon   —   spits   out   fine   down   from   her   pursed   lips.   she   should   un-mind   the   limitless   line   snaking   around   and   around   the   collections   offices'   mission   lobby,   as   counting   the   heads   of   the   potential   contenders   in   the   hunt   will   most   likely   trigger   another   fit   of   labored,   exhausted   breaths,   and   she   doesn't   delight   in   inhaling   another   grymm's   filoplumes   ...

...   but   her   lungs   seize   up   in   panic   when   the   letter   plummets   from   her   sweat-slippery   fingers,   and   slides   a   good   distance   away   from   the   line.   there   is   no   grace   for   maira,   as   eyes   around   her   orbit   to   her   invitation   on   the   ground,   fluttering   and   threatening   to   depart   with   an   updraft,   to   her   creased   and   tormented   face.   the   woman   wrings   her   hands   and   after   a   spine-curving   sigh   to   the   ground,   quickly   paces   to   the   envelope,   snatches   it   up,   and   turns—

—to   see   her   spot   swallowed   up   by   the   tide   of   bodies.   color   drains   from   her   face,   the   only   tint   a   rouge   on   her   cheeks   painted by   surefire   embarrassment.   her   wings,   drab   gray   and   banded,   shackled   at   the   ends,   appear   hang   heavier   on   the   woman's   poor   back.   after   some   fretting   of   her   lips,   the   berry-rose   lipstick   smearing   on   her   teeth   during   the   fit,   maira   takes   a   plain   step   forward,   a   little   clack   on   her   heel,   a   weak   introduction   to   what   follows.

“   ᵉʳᵐ,   hello...   i   don't   know   if   you   saw,   but   i   was   in   line   ʲᵘˢᵗ   ᵃ   ˡᶦᵗᵗˡᵉ   while   ago…   in   front   of   you,   ᶦ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵏ,   and   if   you   could   see   it   in,   ᵉʳᵐ,   ᵗʰᵉ   ᵏᶦⁿᵈⁿᵉˢˢ   ᵒᶠ   ʸᵒᵘʳ   ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ,   ᶜ-ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ   ʸᵒᵘ…   may   i   step   back   ᶦⁿ?   ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ?   ”

[domestxcas]

🐝 what’s your worst trait? how are you planning to improve it?

“  m-my  worst?!  um,  would  it  be  ᵃˡʳᶦᵍʰᵗ  ᵗᵒ  ˢᵏᶦᵖ  ᵗʰᶦˢ...?  err,  i  think  i  could...  ᵗʳʸ  ᵃ  ˢᵐᶦᵈᵍᵉᵒⁿ  ʰᵃʳᵈᵉʳ  ᵗᵒ,  ah,  assert  myself?  oh,  ᵗʰᵃᵗ  ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ  ˡᶦᵏᵉ  ᶦ  ʷᵃˢ  ᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᶦᵒⁿᶦⁿᵍ  ᶦᵗ  ᵃⁿᵈ  ᶦⁿ  ᵗᵘʳⁿ  ᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᶦᵒⁿᶦⁿᵍ  ʷʰᵉᵗʰᵉʳ  ᵒʳ  ⁿᵒᵗ  ᶦ  ʰᵃᵛᵉ  ᶠˡᵃʷˢ,  which  i-i  do,  i  really  do,  like  don't  get  me  started  on  how  i  avoid  asking  for  help  ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ  ᶦ  ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ  ʷᵃⁿᵗ  ᵗᵒ  ᶜᵒᵐᵉ  ᵃᶜʳᵒˢˢ  ᵃˢ  ᵖᵃᵗʰᵉᵗᶦᶜ  ᵃᵗ  ᵗʰᶦˢ  ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈ  ᵃᵍᵉ,  n-not  that  age  matters  in  the  after,  and  there's  just  how  i  freeze  up  whenever  i  have  a  do-or-die  moment,  ˡᵘᶜᵏᶦˡʸ  ᶠᵒʳ  ᵘˢ  ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ  ᶦˢ  ᵇᵘᵗ  ᵃⁿ  ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ  ʰᵃʰᵃʰ...ah....  i'll  just, keep  at  it.  when  you're  already  at  rock  bottom,  there's  not  ᵐᵘᶜʰ  lower  you  can  sink,  right?  ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ…? ”

[domestxcas]

Daisies standing in the rain, Hold their heads together, But they never once complain Of the drenching weather.

@domestxcas is accepting the following memes.

ic writing prompts; ⁕ IN CHARACTER CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT QUESTIONS ⁕ PROMPTS FOR COMFORTABLE INTIMACY ⁕ RANDOM IN-CHARACTER QUESTIONS ⁕ EMOJI ASKS ⁕ SEND 💬

ooc musings & headcanons; ⁕ MUSE QUESTIONS ⁕ THEMATIC HEADCANONS ⁕ WEIRDLY SPECIFIC BUT HELPFUL CHARACTER BUILDING QUESTIONS ⁕ THE MAJOR ARCANA, REVERSED ⁕ SEND 🌌

text credits.

"Daisies Standing in the Rain" by Annette Wynne

[domestxcas]

an introduction to a rat with wings.

featuring a woman named maira.

tw: reference to vehicular homicide.

basics.

FACECLAIM shelley conn

CHARACTER NAME maira kingsley

NICKNAME(S) none substantial; people mainly got her name wrong or went with the classic "hey you" until she became a grymm. now it's "pidge" or "newbie" or "hatchling" or "hey you with the rat wings"

GENDER/PRONOUNS cis woman, she/her

SEXUALITY she is too anxious to even consider relationship, most likely demisexual

HEIGHT 165 cm; 5'5"

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES long brown hair, awkward smile, noticeable british (london) accent, band-aids on her fingers from accidentally nicking herself with her own soul sever

APPEARS (THE AGE AT TIME OF DEATH) forty-seven

BIRTHDAY she doesn't remember but thinks it's a winter birthday

PLACE OF BIRTH doesn't remember but thinks it's somewhere in posh london

NATIONALITY british anglo-indian

FAMILY INFORMATION doesn't remember but thinks she had probably a big family, recalls a lot of faceless people saying "we're family here"

CAUSE OF DEATH hit and run

TRAITS + detailed + conscientious + resilient + kind-hearted - cowardly - awkward - stubborn - panicky

LIKES redecorating her bardo, color-coding her reports, updating her food journal, visiting the near vane grand library, romcoms at the near vane cinema, people watching, being a grymm

DISLIKES bullying, her wings, pigeons in general, being underestimated, reaping souls, slimy things, having to do someone else's paperwork, her crippling desire to be liked

HOBBIES collecting wax seals from Their Eminence's official letters for scrapbooking, daydreaming, reading fantasy novels before "bed", yoga before breakfast, recently has been practicing flying in her bardo with mixed results

HABITS fidgets her hands behind her back when trying to assert herself, lip chewing whenever in pensive thought (almost always), adds a little curly tail at the end of her a's, leaves food out for the stray cats (there are none)

optionals.

EXTRAS n/a

CHARACTER TROPES butt-monkey, cowardly lion, extreme doormat...

CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS higashiyama kobeni (chainsaw man), luigi mario (nintendo's mario bros.), kenneth parcell (30 rock), ann perkins (parks and recreation), hal "otacon" emmerich (metal gear solid series)...

MEMES tba.

MORAL ALIGNMENT lawful good

ZODIAC/NATAL CHART she thinks she's either a sagittarius or a capricon.

MBTI tba.

ENNEAGRAM tba.

artwork credits.

Study of the sleeping wood pigeon (1873) by Ferdinand von Wright

text credits.

"Twenty", Grit by Silas Melvin

[metamorphesque]

Brief Poems, Vera Pavlova

[jadeitor-art]

Plein Air Pigeons at the Park 🐦🌳

Drawing pigeons plain air was much more challenging than I expected