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@dramartiste
hey mods, i'm heading off to Aussie in a week so i'm just here to put a few muses on a full hiatus to start: Reaper (Overwatch), Hector (Fate), Cu Chulainn (Prototype) (Fate), and Shinjiro Aragaki (Persona). thank you!!
Hello, there!
Reaper, Shinjiro and Lancer (Hector) will all be placed on hiatus! However, because Lancer (Cu Chulainn Prototype) is not currently meeting activity requirements, a hiatus cannot be processed for him. Sorry about that!
– mod o13
❝ Ohh, alas, tis’ so! ❛ Love is a smoke and is made with the fume of sighs ❜...! ❞ How he so relishes in the idle chatter frequenting the masses-- but why in God’s name was he preaching from so high in a tree? Why, dramatic effect, of course!
shemiramide---;
STOP STANDING THERE AND TEACH ME HOW TO USE THIS ELECTRICAL CONTRAPTION YOU FOOL !!
lmao
when the bff back in town
💭
( PROMPT. ) NOT ACCEPTING.
Hmm, I see– a truly interesting state of affairs hers is, to be a “Demi-Servant”, and beset by so monumental a plight! What a terrible burden she must shoulder! A curious existence indeed! Now then– how will your story end, Lady Mashu? In revelries? In tragedy? Or something bittersweet; perhaps a heroic sacrifice…?
For every 💭 I receive, I will write one thought my Muse has had about yours.
sentence prompts ➝ reign
❛ You have no power because I’ve taken it all away. ❜
❛ How many people have you killed? ❜
❛ I know I’ve made mistakes. ❜
❛ But it’s all meaningless without you. ❜
❛ Have you ever wanted something so much that the fear of not getting it makes you wonder if you ever should have wanted it at all? ❜
❛ Something we both want so deeply warrants a bit of fear. ❜
❛ No one will ever keep us apart again. ❜
❛ Men in general like to win ❜
❛ Well, your taste in men always did leave something to be desired. ❜
❛ In the darkest of times you were my conscience. ❜
❛ The more we try to help each other, the more harm we do. ❜
❛ Have you learned nothing? ❜
❛ I lose everyone I love. ❜
❛ What odd turns our lives have taken. ❜
❛ Your life is more valuable than this. ❜
❛ My life is once again the sum of my choices, not someone else’s crimes. And I choose to help my friends. ❜
❛ Tell me, what would hurt more. Knowing the person you love will die, or knowing they’re alive but you cannot have them? ❜
❛ I don’t give my heart or give up easily. ❜
❛ Despite your heartbreak, I must warn you, I show no mercy. ❜
❛ I’m not sure I trust my own fate anymore. ❜
❛ You have to admit, your fate does have a sense of humor. ❜
❛ I need to forget a ridiculous, childish idea that I could love someone, they could love me, and nothing else mattered. ❜
❛ Choose because of what you think, not what others might. ❜
❛ There is always risk. At least when you love someone it’s worth taking. ❜
❛ I never said I was a good person, but one can receive good advice from a bad person.❜
❛ Please, let there be one honest thing between us. ❜
❛ You want to hear something honest? I would do anything to keep you. ❜
❛ Love is never simple. Not that I’m any expert. ❜
❛ We can’t do this. ❜
❛ We were supposed to dance under the stars. ❜
❛ Maybe there is no magic but what we make for ourselves. ❜
when your master’s romance game is weak
rutilare---;
The little magus jerked out of sleep – out of horrid dreams and out of a barren white landscape that stretched on forever and ever. She pushed up, off the tear-soaked pillow and gazed deliriously around her room out of fear. Same old room. No blood-soaked stains, no cracked walls.
She glanced a the door, briefly wondering if waking up her little brother was feasible. Best to let him sleep, though. And better not to have him worry.
Gudako fumbled for her phone on the nearby nightstand, flipping away at her list of contacts until she found the number she wanted.
“… are you awake? No… nevermind. Stupid question, I guess. – … I was just having a really weird nightmare again, uhm…. I wanted to ask you something real quick. Sorry for interrupting your sleep… “ If they were sleeping, that is. It wasn’t exactly something Servants needed.
There came a pause, and then – “Have you ever wondered… if maybe there’s no point in trying to salvage this timeline, this city? If… maybe we’re doing the wrong thing… by letting things continue?”
Sleep was better suited a comfort to a Servant, for they could thrive even without such mortal needs. Why waste valuable hours when he could spend them pouring his imagination onto paper, wringing every last drop of that inspiration bestowed unto him by a late night thought. It would seem his best ideas came to him at this hour, and he could no longer afford nor enjoy something so trivial as sleep. A blessing in disguise, he could term it however, as it would appear he isn't the only soul urged awake by the racket in his head, his cellular device drawing his note with a continuous whirr and a song.
His fingers faltered to a pause over the keys of his typewriter, and he regarded the chiming with raised brows for a moment, before picking it up, prodding a button carefully, and holding it to his ear.
❝ --Ohhh, my my, if it isn’t my Master! What a rare surprise, indeed! ❞ he couldn't help but remark with a broad smile, one could almost find it in his tone, ❝ To what do I owe this pleasure? ❞
As his young companion would then go on to say, a plague of thoughts cleverly guised as nightmares apparently. His joy gave way to curiosity, as he relaxed back into his seat with a quizzical blink. Oh dear, to be humanity's last hope was a terrible burden, was it not? Could this be a lack of confidence dousing her resolve? Well, no protagonist was without their moments of doubt. It would be rather a bore if they didn't.
❝ Hmmmm, I see, I see. ❞ Caster closed his eyes, rubbing his chin thoughtfully-- she had a dreadful weight thrust upon her shoulders that none would envy, so it’s small wonder she would think such a way, ❝ ❛ Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt ❜. ❞
However, he’d one curiosity that begged to be answered first, ❝ Very well. Tell me of this dream! ❞
❥ NON - SEXUAL ACTS OF DOMINANCE .
feel free to edit or elaborate as you please . ( add ‘ reverse ‘ to your message if you’d like to see how my muse would perform the action ) . otherwise , send in one of these for my muse’s reaction to …
[ lit ] your muse lighting a cigarette , spliff , etc. for mine .
[ order ] your muse ordering for mine at a restaurant or bar .
[ guide ] your muse putting a hand on mine’s back to lead them .
[ pay ] your muse paying for mine at a store , bar , restaurant , etc . ( you can specify where or for what . )
[ open ] your muse opening a door for mine .
[ dry ] your muse drying mine off with a towel after a shower , bath , swimming , etc .
[ instruct ] your muse giving mine instructions / telling them what to do .
[ groom ] your muse adjusting mine’s appearance , such as straightening a tie , fixing their hair , or buttoning their shirt for them , etc .
[ direct ] your muse taking mine by the chin and telling them to look yours in the eye .
[ disagree ] your muse sternly telling mine ‘ no ‘ .
[ rest ] your muse resting their arm over mine’s shoulder / s .
[ clean ] your muse cleaning a smudge of something off mine’s cheek , forehead , etc . feel free to specify what and how .
[ answer ] your muse answering a question meant for mine .
[ coat ] your muse holds mine’s coat out for them while they put it on .
[ pilot ] your muse taking mine by the arm , hand , shoulder , etc . to lead them .
[ stare ] your muse staring mine down .
[ placement ] your muse telling mine to sit down .
[ teach ] your muse taking control of mine’s hand , arm , hips , etc . to make sure they do something correctly .
[ patience ] your muse telling mine to be patient .
[ tears ] your muse wiping away mine’s tears .
[ swat ] your muse swatting mine’s hand away from something they’re not supposed to touch .
[ jewelry ] your muse clasping a piece of jewelry for mine , such as a necklace , or earrings .
[ enough ] your muse commanding mine to stop talking .
[ retrieve ] your muse requesting or ordering mine to retrieve them something .
[ invite ] your muse inviting mine to sit on their lap .
[ lean ] your muse inviting mine to lean into their side while they’re sitting or laying together .
[ calm ] your muse telling mine to ‘ just breathe ‘ .
[ scold ] your muse scolding mine for something .
[ comfort ] your muse pulling mine into a reassuring hug .
[ approval ] your muse complimenting mine on a choice they’ve made .
[ beckon ] your muse beckoning mine to them without speaking .
[ laces ] your muse lacing , tying , or zipping something for mine , such as shoes , a dress , or a jacket , etc .
[ stay ] your muse telling mine to stay in the car .
[ defend ] your muse defending mine’s reputation , dignity , or safety for them .
[ feed ] your muse feeding mine something , feel free to specify what .
[ volume ] your muse demanding mine speak louder .
[ read ] your muse reading something to mine .
[ refill ] your muse refilling mine’s glass for them .
[ possessive ] your muse resting their hand on mine’s leg or the small of their back while they’re sitting beside each other .
cataclysmal---;
APPLAUSE, SOMETHING SHE HAD NOT entirely expected to hear when amidst the silent readers who glower with irritation toward them both. ah, so he appreciated such a thing. hardly bothered by it does she step toward the stranger, tilting her head with a silent perusal of his wardrobe. familiar, though more of an older touch in regards to the attires of her time which pulls her curiosities to the surface.
several members that run the library which they stand glance over at the disturbance, ready to act were they to continue to on with their loud antics. much to their dismay, they might find, as the woman responds just the same without a single effort to hush herself.
❝ Perform? If you mean acting, you’ll be disappointed. I’ve never stepped foot on stage, let alone been to a single play in my life, ❞ she confesses, loudly clasping the book shut just as he had moments ago to tuck against her stomach. ❝ Even when I sing I don’t get anything fancy like one. Not that it actually matters or anything. I remember reading something once… that all the world’s a stage, and all the men and women are players—or something like that. So why should I need an actual stage at all if that were true? ❞ leaning forward, she offers a smile which teeters upon mischievous as arms tuck themselves behind her back thereafter.
❝ Why? Are you implying I’m good enough to? ❞ several shushes sound out, though she can hardly bring herself to care for them as she looks on with intrigue.
There is nothing he sees more clearly than her; a perfect stranger garbed and composed elegantly that even the labyrinth of stories in which she stood could not hope to compete for his interest. Thusly, the scathing looks they attracted in their disregard for the silence bothered him not, their discontent a ghost drifting through his person unnoticed and passing not even a chill along his spine. He hadn’t the time to notice such petty and trivial things. And as he halted his tread a stride short of her, Caster met the red of her gaze without fear.
❝ ‘ Disappointment ’ , you say? Why, I feel nothing of the sort! Even better! ❞ one shan’t need a stage to express themselves, after all.
Such a striking look about her-- he couldn’t help but ponder to himself just where she had come from. Unique, just like the rest, he would expect. Many a question flooded his head, but the tide receded promptly upon her resume. Her words struck a heavy chord, the thrumming resonant-- that is to say, they were his own, and as such, he was positively beaming.
❝ Ooohh--! ❞ he exclaimed in his joy, a smile spilling onto his features, ❝ ❛ --they have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts ❜. Hm hm, quite right you are! ❞
A distant “sshh!” was not enough to deter his mirth, and he gave her a good-natured wink.
❝ Perhaps! You speak the words as if they were your own, my lady! ❞
❝ How prosaic... I care not for those who simply live their lives as they are told! Society’s expectations are naught but a prison of words; meaningless rules and regulations to bar you from your heart’s truest desires! Fumu! You aren’t truly living then! A dreadful waste, I say! ❞
@dramartiste
“It seems that many of our tales have been perversed to twist into fictitious leverage or forms of entertainment, both histories as well as stories intended to be passed.” Disappointment wracks her features, eyes quickly scanning the worn pages of a book as her fingers flip pages and exchange volumes on the shelves with lightning fast swiftness. “They would rather we look strange for a few chuckles or bouts of awe than truthfully account our lives. But I suppose that is what comes in hand with being as old as the both of us are, no?”
❝ Hm hm~ that may be so... ❞ he trailed off thoughtfully, entertaining yet another of his own biographies, none by his own hand, flipping through its contents curiously.
While she wasn’t wrong, he would concede, as his eyes glided over the pages, drinking in each and every understatement this stranger would have said of William Shakespeare, Caster was of a differing opinion in that regard. And, snapping that book shut disapprovingly, he would finally share it.
❝ However, I find the truth to be so dreadfully dull! ❞ not that any of these so-called writers would apparently know the truth if it slammed into them with the force of a several thousand tonne freight train.
Well now, he had no business with truths anyway.
( @dramartiste )
FINGERS TRACE ALONG WEATHERED SPINES, peeking through the years worth of writing which has bypassed her own era. ah, how intriguing indeed to see what the years have unraveled in her permanent absence. nails tap upon one, instead plucking it out without hesitation to read the author’s name as friedrich nietzsche. something about philosophy, cracking open the pages to a random page as crimson eyes scan through them. quotes, not ones belonging to any form of play or musical means. still not far from the novels which once littered her tower, far from those of romantic means at that.
holding the pages open with one hand, another lifts itself near dramatically as she picks a random quote from one of the pages. much like that of an actress preparing for a soliloquy, albeit hardly anything but.
❝ … in reality, hope is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the torment of man. ❞ spoken heartfelt indeed, finding no concern for the glares which aim toward her for proclaiming the quote so loudly. allowing her hand to remain in place for a moment longer, she turns to the nearest patron of library. ❝ Well? It’s not a song, but I think I captured something that heavy pretty good. ❞
Oftentimes when his writing had run aground, and his motivations clawed for something worthwhile, he would pay a visit to the centuries upon centuries of literature housed nearby. It was somewhat soothing to lose himself in the tomes and the silence in which they made their home, yield his heart and mind to the stories they told, the songs they sang, the poetry they weaved like magic to bewitch the very soul. If he closed his eyes, as he did often with a smile, he could see the words take shape, carving out so clearly his own theater from the nothing, commencing a scene from the curtain’s rise to its fall.
Now now, he mustn’t tarry, there was some sorely needed writing to be done-- and the book that laid open in his palm was soon snapped shut with a finality, filed back among its brethren upon the shelf. He danced his gloved fingers shy the row of spines, grazing a touch across the many before coming to a stop at one in particular, plucking it from its place with a thoughtful hum. It was before he could look further than its cover when a powerful voice cut into the quiet, drawing his attention at its utmost.
❝ Hm? ❞ blinking, tucking the book beneath an arm, he took a few steps aside to get a better look beyond the shelves, noting at last a young woman at its root, boldly crying out into the scathing looks of her fellow patrons.
Amid the sea of disapproval, his features lit up-- he was beaming, and in the wake of her little performance, William Shakespeare applauded most genuinely, garnering even more ire.
❝ Ohhh! My, my, most splendid! ❞ he approached, parting his hands, ❝ Tell me, young miss, do you perform? ❞
Shakespeare... Bad. Bad, bad. Bad.
( HOW AM I DOING? ) ACCEPTING.
Shakespeare is no easy character to pick up and as a result, from what I've been able to see, you've done him very well!! I'd struggle with pinpointing his flair, but it seems to come easily to you. And if it doesn't... you do a very convincing job of implying otherwise. Keep up the good work!
( HOW AM I DOING? ) ACCEPTING.
