Moved !!

[occultmisfortune]

yo !! It’s Cae, here with a remake of my multi-oc @occultmisfortune-a​ !! There are as many new muses as there are old, a couple with revamped stories, a couple with the same stories as before, so if you could like/reblog this if you’re down with interacting with a bunch of eccentric ( complete and total messes ) muses, that’d be great !!

[emotiicn]

Starter Call !!

[emotiicn]

nakaula:

「 ✠ 」 The lack of hesitance on his end made her that much happier. Her grip tightened as she nuzzled into his shoulder. “I’ve been well!” she chirped. Really, everything had been rather business as usual–nothing too exciting, which was good considering what she did for a living. Excitement often led to fighting, and she didn’t like fighting. She sobered up then, pulling away and resting her hands on his shoulders. While her smile didn’t disappear, her expression grew more serious. “How have you been? Anything I can help you with?”

     A soft smile. He was relived to hear those words from her. ❝ Good. I’m glad you’ve been well. ❞  He wasn’t quite ready for her to pull away and look at him so seriously. It unsettled him just a bit, the tightening of his jaw a tell of the slight tension. Perhaps he was simply being paranoid, but those questions felt loaded. ❝ I’ve been well, too. Resting. ❞  And he had. Even going so far as to turn off the phone he was given and leave it that way for a while, as much trouble as it might get him into later. ❝ You’ve helped enough, Tzan. I couldn’t ask you to do anymore. Thank you, though. ❞

[emotiicn]

@nakaula·:

「  ✠  」 Tzaphkiel sighed in relief once he agreed to go with her, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them once again, locking her gaze with Rhys’. Despite any pain she felt–emotional and physical–her eyes were bright with determination. She may have been a being of emotion, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be controlled by her own, especially when her friend was in trouble. He doesn’t want to do this, she kept telling herself. He’s under some sort of duress. This isn’t his choice.

“I’m going to help you,” she repeated. That didn’t answer his question, but oh well. “You can lean on me if you need to. I don’t mind.” He’d likely end up bleeding her if he did, and that was gross; however, she’d rather have that than him falling over. If worst came to worst, she could always just carry him. Either way, they were leaving. She tugged on his sleeve again, leading him out of the alley and towards the park she recalled passing on her way.

She hoped no one else was at the park because it was bad enough that Rhys would see how she’d help him. She also needed to clear her head on the way there–all the negative emotions she felt right then would only interfere with her ability to heal him. That, however, was easier said than done, but she’d figure it out.

     Guilt wrapped its ugly fingers around him at the relieved sigh. He let his gaze drift away from her again. The difficulty he was having meeting his friend’s determined gaze was shameful, ridiculous. He cursed himself for having grown so careless. Had he thought through his plan a little more thoroughly, he’d have realized the alley wasn’t nearly as private as it had seemed. Had he worried more over it, he wouldn’t be in this mess. She wouldn’t be hurting. She wouldn’t be an accessory to murder. 

     A nod. He supposed he didn’t really need to know how, just that she was. He pursed his lips into a thin line. ❝ No. I won’t lean on you... I can walk. ❞  He’d done it enough times to stick it out, push through the spreading pain. He knew she didn’t mind him leaning on her, but he wouldn’t. If he began to feel like he was going to fall over, he’d just steady himself on the nearest inanimate object or perhaps her shoulder, but he wouldn’t lean on her. Not with the amount of blood he had covering him. 

     He was quick ( or as quick as he could be ) to follow her when she tugged on his sleeve. ❝ Tzaphkiel, why do you want to heal me...  ?  ❞  Quiet syllables slipped passed his lips, uncertainty and guilt clouding any thought process that may have lead him to the realization that keeping his mouth shut was probably for the best. 

[emotiicn]

I want pre-established things with this little bean. But that’s kinda difficult with his background. Like, unless they’re acquaintances. 

[emotiicn]

@nakaula​ || cont. 

     A sight for sore eyes, that blonde head of hair and the easy smile Tzan offered. Contentment flooded him as her arms wrapped around him. Cool hues studied her, apparently the single constant in his life. ❝ Hello, Tzaphkiel. ❞  His own arms found their way around the girl much easier than they had in the past, despite the overwhelming concern of the circumstances under which they had seen each other last. ❝ You’re well  ?  ❞

[musingisms]

mini-musings:

He was as dangerous as the dark                                                   on the deepest night of winter

[emotiicn]

nakaula replied to your post: nakaula replied to your post: Okay but just think...

Tzan just wants to make sure her friend is okay. Like, she notices he’s tired and starts petting his head or something and he just falls asleep shortly after.

And that would be the first time since he was little bitty that he was able to sleep without some form of nightmare and he’d just be blown away. 

[oswinresources]

Reblog if you are willing to roleplay with an ESL student

For those of you who don’t know, ESL stands for English as a Second Language.

 It has happened to me more than one time to be discriminated because my sentence structure is a bit different and since people care so much for being literate, I would like to know those who don’t really discriminate, as long as it is understandable and it doesn’t show horrible mistakes that makes it hard to read.

[emotiicn]

nakaula replied to your post: Okay but just think about it for a minute. Rhys...

Rhys can nap on Tzan though. Her powers could more than likely keep him calm enough for a peaceful sleep. 

Tzan like saves his life in more ways than one. 

[rp-memes-atyourservice]

ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍɪɴɢ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ 

ᴀs ɪғ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪᴛsᴇʟғ ᴡᴀs ᴜɴᴅᴏɴᴇ

[emotiicn]

Okay but just think about it for a minute. Rhys suffers insomnia due to nightmares. Nightmares that sometimes turn into night terrors. It just makes him not want to sleep at all. It almost renders him incapable of sleeping unless he literally passes out. 

But his nightmares don't so much consist of the people he works for because he doesn't know much about them. There are times when he dreams something up in his sleep like them finding him and just snuffing him out or nightmares that fill in the blanks of his missing memories. But his nightmares usually consist of the same thing: his victims. But they're not out to get him at first. They're just there. In the natural progression in which he saw them. Alive an boisterous one second, cold and lifeless the next. And they just hound him for it. They haunt his nightmares, asking him why he did it. Sometimes he’ll dream up families of victims, devastation written across their faces. 

But his nightmares always end up the same when it comes to his victims and their families. They always end up coming after him, much like in his nightmares of the organization killing him. He dreams about a lot of death, but the death that always terrifies him the most is his own. And it’s the one that haunts his dreams every night. 

[wordsnquotes]

I became good at pretending. I became so good that after a while the lines blurred between my truth and fiction. And sometimes, when I did a really good job of pretending, I even fooled myself.

Ruta Sepetys, Salt to the Sea (via wordsnquotes)

[emotiicn]

coelusxaecorxinferi:

He chuckled proudly to himself, folding his arms over his chest an giving a nod. ‘ Mhm, don’t worry, I’ll keep practicing. And then I’ll be super super good ~! Maybe I’ll become like one of those old famous guys. I can’t remember their names..’

     He smiled and nodded. If the other really wanted to do it, he supposed he could.  ❝  Maybe. But there are a lot of those old famous guys. Monet, Picasso, Van Gogh, and several more. You’ll have to work really hard for a long time to become like one of them.  ❞

[emotiicn]

nakaula:

「  ✠  」 The archangel’s grip tightened at the sound of metal hitting concrete. Though a large part of her wanted to turn around and leave whether Rhys came with her or not, she forced herself to keep holding onto him. It hurt. She knew, in theory, why, but couldn’t recall the actual memories associated with the pain. It hurt, and she wanted to leave; however, she couldn’t just abandon her friend either. His wounds weren’t minor, and any strenuous activity would only make them worse. He might not’ve noticed the severity ( perhaps some combination of adrenaline from the fight and the shock of Tzaphkiel finding him ), but she knew it’d be dangerous not to do anything about it.

Her free hand reached up to Rhys’ cheek and forced him to meet her gaze. “Rhys, come with me,” she commanded. Her voice lost any questioning tone it’d held before. No, this time, she didn’t leave any room for argument on the matter. “You can’t do anything while you’re hurt like that.” While she didn’t quite see the problem of just leaving and not doing anything else with the body, she figured he must have some sort of obligation. That–she wanted nothing to do with at all. He could do what he needed to, but only after she tended to his wounds.

It occurred to her that she’d be breaking some rules in helping him. She wasn’t supposed to reveal her nature to mortals, and that included the use of her powers. Sure, she’d used them around him once before, but that was on a small scale and easy to pass off. If she could, she’d treat his wounds through normal means or take him to someone who could, but neither of those were viable options, given that first, she had no idea how, and second, he’d probably object.

     The pain that radiated from Tzaphkiel still came as something of a shock to him. He wondered if perhaps this pain ran deeper than just seeing that a man’s life had been ripped out from under him. The prospect of it being more deeply rooted than that caused his stomach to turn. It had been a long time since he’d felt like he was going to be sick over accomplishing a mission. Then again, he’d never had anyone find him right after, either. He’d certainly never had a friend, someone like Tzaphkiel find him. And perhaps that was why he hadn’t noticed how deeply his wounds reached or how painful they really were. His body had been engineered to sustain him through a lot, but he was still only human. 

     He nearly flinched away from her touch. It was almost too much for him right now. But he knew it was probably far worse for her. When forced to meet her eyes, he found the revolt, the hatred for himself settling as deeply as his bones. He opened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it. She was right. He couldn’t very well do what needed to be done in the condition he was in. So he nodded, complying without any protest aside from his original concerns.  ❝  Alright. I guess-- I guess you’re right.  ❞  He knew she was right. The longer he stood with Tzan, the quicker the pain seemed to settle in. He even found himself beginning to shake. 

      ❝  How... How exactly are you going to help me...  ?  ❞  The words tasted bitter as they rolled off his tongue. What a wretched thing he was. A creature that found it far too easy to rip away the lives of others, but terrifying to give up his own, to succumb to what he knew would eventually come to him. Instead, here he was, not raising a single protest to the prospect of being healed in spite of not knowing how that was going to happen. 

[emotiicn]

coelusxaecorxinferi:

All previous crimes were forgotten and his face lit up with a bright smile, now that his artistic ability had been recognized. He but the drawing down and continued to beam. ‘ Right right !? I’ve been practicing and I think I’m getting pretty good now !’

     He gave a nod. ❝  It looks that way. I’m sure that as long as you keep practicing it’ll eventually look even better.  ❞  The other looked much too excited for him to point out the fact that it didn’t quite look like a puppy to him, still. So he’d settled on something of a half-truth. 

[emotiicn]

coelusxaecorxinferi:

‘ What ? Are ya blind ? It’s clearly a dog ! A lil’ puppy !’ He’s pouting now, he knew he wasn’t an artist but surely his drawings were goof enough to be able to comprehend what it was. He held the drawing close to the other’s face, so close he couldn’t possibly see anything. ‘ See, a dog. A dog.’

     He felt like his eyes were crossing when the drawing was shoved into his face. He blinked and leaned back, nodding. ❝  Oh... No, no. I see it now. I definitely see it.  ❞  In an abstract sort of way. Though he still attributed that to a lack of sleep rather than the other’s artistic ability. ❝  It's a very nice puppy. It just took me a second.  ❞