#extradirty
art blog(derogatory)
Product Placement
trying on a metaphor
macklin celebrini has autism
pixel skylines
Three Goblin Art
hello vonnie
Stranger Things
if i look back, i am lost
Jules of Nature
almost home
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wallacepolsom
Game of Thrones Daily
★
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
tannertan36
Claire Keane
titsay
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@inabirdcage
“you're a mess of good intentions gone wrong. you strike a match on yourself to keep others warm, and now the whole goddamn world's on fire. you try to put it out, and you try so hard. the dam breaks, and the waters of your sorrow pour free. you are sorry; so very, very sorry- and you will drown everyone to prove it.”
– m.a.w; the hero who couldn't save anyone
❥ 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 [ 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂 ] .
headcanon prompts with questions based on plants & what they represent in flower language . happy roleplaying !! ♡
abatina : is there anything in life your muse has changed their mind about over time ( due to becoming more educated on the topic , certain experiences , etc . ) , or that they would change their mind about under certain circumstances ?
acanthus : is your muse deceptive , or willing to lie or deceive to achieve certain means ? why or why not ?
aloe : how does your muse handle grief ?
amaryllis : what is something or someone that your muse takes pride in ? how do they express that pride ?
anemone : how does your muse view the world ; as a cruel & unforgiving place , a land full of wonders , or something in - between ? where does that world view come from ( what experiences , life lessons , etc . ) ?
angelica : where does your muse draw inspiration in life ? what motivates them ?
apple blossom : how does your muse go about expressing or not expressing their sexuality ?
bachelor’s button : does your muse actively seek romantic companionship , or cherish the liberties of being single ?
basil : does your muse have a love - hate relationship with anyone or anything ?
bay tree : does your muse seek glory & accolades , or do they favour a simpler , more personal life ?
begonia : how cautious is your muse ? are they prone to noticing red flags , or paranoid to the point of untrusting most everyone ? why or why not ?
belladonna : how does your muse respond to silence ? do they take comfort in soundlessness , or seek to fill the void with noise ?
bluebell : does your muse learn from their past , or are they prone to repeating the same mistakes ?
carnation : what is your muse’s relationship with their gender ? how do they express or not express this relationship ?
chamomile : what is your muse likely to take away from a painful experience ? are they one to be haunted by adversity , or to use what they’ve gone through to become stronger ?
chrysanthemum : how does your muse express romantic love ? how do they feel about love as a concept ?
daffodil : is your muse one to be loyal in relationships , or are they likely to quickly move from one bond to another ?
daisy : did your muse ever feel as though their innocence had been lost ? what moment in their life could be described as the end of their innocence ?
edelweiss : what was the bravest moment in your muse’s life ? are they known to be courageous from then on ?
fern : does your muse believe in magic or cosmic forces , or are they more likely to think their life is ultimately a matter of their own control ?
forget - me - not : has your muse ever forgotten something that is or was important to them ? are they afraid of forgetting things like that ?
gardenia : is your muse one to confess romantic feelings early on , or to conceal them for long periods of time ?
gladiolus : describe a moment from your muse’s life that they will never forget .
goldenrod : does your muse believe in luck or fortune ? why or why not ? where do they believe these things come from ?
heliotrope : does your muse believe in soulmates ?
hibiscus : how does your muse view the gentler , daintier things in life ? as things worth preserving & caring for , or things only bound to wither & disappear ?
holly : how strong is your muse’s sense of intuition ? are they aware of it ? do they ever fear that it is only paranoia ?
hollyhock : how strong is your muse’s sense of ambition ? what’s something they strive for in life ?
hyacinth : is your muse athletic ? does it come naturally to them , or have they had to work for their physique and/or skill ?
hydrangea : how much does your muse value communication in their relationships with others ? are they prone to being misunderstood ?
iris : if your muse could convey one last message to someone they have lost or left behind , what would it be ?
ivy : what are your muse’s views on marriage ? do they believe it is something strictly for love , or an institution rooted in business & social benefits ? do they desire or have they desired to be married ?
lavender : how easy is it to gain your muse’s trust ? once their trust is broken , how might one go about mending it ?
lilac : what was your muse’s childhood like ? how has their upbringing affected them as they’ve aged ?
lily : how does your muse view their mother ?
lotus : has your muse ever felt as though they’ve been reborn ? have they ever desired the feeling of a fresh start , or a better understanding of themself and/or the world around them ?
magnolia : describe your muse’s relationship with nature & the natural world .
marigold : is your muse prone to jealousy ? how might they handle envious feelings ?
mint : does your muse view themself as virtuous & moral ? what do these words mean to them ?
nasturtium : describe your muse’s relationship with their birthplace , or homeland .
oak : who would your muse consider the strongest person they know ?
pansy : does your muse often reflect on their own actions ? do they ever think a lot about the past , and what they could have done differently ?
parsley : describe a holiday your muse enjoys , and why they enjoy it .
peony : what would a ‘ happy life ’ look like in your muse’s eyes ?
poppy : what comforts your muse ?
rhododendron : is your muse receptive to warnings & advice given by others ?
rose : how much does your muse value other people ? do they wish to have many friends , lovers , and/or associates ? are they an easy person to love ?
sage : what is your muse’s legacy ? what do they want to be remembered for & what might they actually be remembered for ?
salvia : is your muse possessive over people or things that matter a lot to them ? how do they express that possessiveness , or lack thereof ?
snapdragon : is your muse merciful ? why or why not ?
southernwood : how seriously does your muse take themself ? do they prefer a solemn & intellectual atmosphere or do they delight in jokes & banter ?
sunflower : what brings your muse the most joy in life ?
tulip : how does your muse view people in general ?
violet : how does your muse respond to betrayal ?
willow : how does your muse handle sadness & depression ?
zinnia : how has the loss of fallen comrades and/or loved ones affected your muse ? has it taught them anything or given them any new perspectives ?
MUSE SHAMING
send me a ⚠️ with a reason my muse should be shamed (e.g. “hangs toilet paper backward”) and I can only confirm or deny
Possible criminal activity? Just who was this guy?
Mulder shook his head, rubbing his face as he sighed.
“Look, there’s a lot you’re telling us,” he stressed, looking very close to being fed up, “Is there anyway you can substantiate your claim of using this... magic? Can you show us or reproduce in any way the things you’re describing?” That would at least rule out the hope that this was an X-File. If this were nothing more than a red herring, he could throw it to some other department or just simply leave it with the local police. He tried not to look at Scully, knowing that she would be pleased that he was asking for proof for once.
Archimedes heaves a sigh. He supposes thats a reasonable request.
There is no other warning as he gives the agents precisely what they're looking for - well-manicured fingers become sharper than they seem, as he takes them to the table, scratching in the same sigil as on the brooch to the metals squealing protest. And before anything can be said of the vandalism, he pressed his hand to it.
The flame that jumps out is a little large, and he hastily scoops it into his bare hand, cupping it, coddling it, keeping it from harming the much more vulnerable mortals in the room, before eventually smothering it entirely before his nervousness causes a repeat from before. And the look of quiet eagerness does not quite match to the feat as he watches them for confirmation of his compliance.
"... was that sufficient, then...?"
Both agents had reeled back, and before either of them could respond, the fire alarms went off. Water rained down on the three of them, causing Mulder and Scully to get up.
"What the hell were you thinking?!" Scully shouted at the two of them over the alarm, "Fire?! In an enclosed area?! How-?"
Before she could get another question out, a couple of officers stormed into the room. A commotion began between the Federal Agents and the local police as they tried to get a handle on the situation. This did not look good for Archimedes whatsoever.
But ... Enough people were distracted to make for an easy escape.
For a moment, Archimedes froze, wide-eyed, the commotion clearly frazzling him. This was clearly getting out of hand, despite his best efforts. For a split second, he could feel his Glamours beginning to drop, tail lashing anxiously, wings raising defensively. And in the next, he pressed himself to the wall, etching another sigil - and he was gone, seeming to blink out of existence. He had no time to retrieve his things, and he'd regret it later. He was going to regret a lot of this, honestly.
The agents were left alone, alarms still ringing, and starting to become sopping wet, with the brooch sitting in their possession.
"Someone pulled a firearm on you?" Scully inquired, "That hadn't been noted in the case report. Did you notify police of this?" Though truth be told the one bringing out a gun could have been an officer.
This magic that he mentioned could have been easily produced with low tech stage magic. Well, everything besides teleportation of course. She supposed once they got a clear understanding of what exactly happened, they could begin to rule out possibilities of what it was he actually did.
"... I didn't. I didn't want this to be an ordeal." He gives her an apologetic look. "As I've told you, Miss Scully. I just want to get out of here, quickly and painlessly. The gentleman I was dealing with is probably of ill reputation - most of my brothers clientele are. I would rather not get involved in all of that. I try to leave his business dealings to him. He... Azazel says I spoil him enough as is without sticking my nose into his work."
Possible criminal activity? Just who was this guy?
Mulder shook his head, rubbing his face as he sighed.
“Look, there’s a lot you’re telling us,” he stressed, looking very close to being fed up, “Is there anyway you can substantiate your claim of using this... magic? Can you show us or reproduce in any way the things you’re describing?” That would at least rule out the hope that this was an X-File. If this were nothing more than a red herring, he could throw it to some other department or just simply leave it with the local police. He tried not to look at Scully, knowing that she would be pleased that he was asking for proof for once.
Archimedes heaves a sigh. He supposes thats a reasonable request.
There is no other warning as he gives the agents precisely what they're looking for - well-manicured fingers become sharper than they seem, as he takes them to the table, scratching in the same sigil as on the brooch to the metals squealing protest. And before anything can be said of the vandalism, he pressed his hand to it.
The flame that jumps out is a little large, and he hastily scoops it into his bare hand, cupping it, coddling it, keeping it from harming the much more vulnerable mortals in the room, before eventually smothering it entirely before his nervousness causes a repeat from before. And the look of quiet eagerness does not quite match to the feat as he watches them for confirmation of his compliance.
"... was that sufficient, then...?"
Mulder got a good look at it. It seemed pretty old, practically ancient. It could be a bit of incredible prop work but from the weight of it, the item seemed legitimate. His eyebrows lifted, and he wondered if there was anything he had in his resources that could turn up where this seal came from.
"We'll look into it," He said, making a half-hearted promise, "But what were you just about to tell me? About the supernatural?" Agent Scully whipped her head to look at Mulder, then back to Mr. Desmanti. Both of them now looked incredibly eager to hear whatever it was the man had to say. Hopefully he wasn't just leading them along.
So much for assurances. Archimedes sighed, however, and nodded, leaning back in, voice dropping quietly, as if to avoid being eavesdropping.
"... the flame was created by me." Archimedes flexes his hand anxiously. "I conjured it, using one of these sigils to focus. Normally I'm much better at controlling it, but the man I was trying to draw a firearm and I... I panicked. I haven't had to use much magic defensively since my days at War."
His gaze turns a little more downcast at that. "... normally I use it more for convenience. Teleportation, light, those such things. I should have just used that, honestly, but I... I'm afraid I wasn't thinking clearly."
"Someone pulled a firearm on you?" Scully inquired, "That hadn't been noted in the case report. Did you notify police of this?" Though truth be told the one bringing out a gun could have been an officer.
This magic that he mentioned could have been easily produced with low tech stage magic. Well, everything besides teleportation of course. She supposed once they got a clear understanding of what exactly happened, they could begin to rule out possibilities of what it was he actually did.
"... I didn't. I didn't want this to be an ordeal." He gives her an apologetic look. "As I've told you, Miss Scully. I just want to get out of here, quickly and painlessly. The gentleman I was dealing with is probably of ill reputation - most of my brothers clientele are. I would rather not get involved in all of that. I try to leave his business dealings to him. He... Azazel says I spoil him enough as is without sticking my nose into his work."
Almost as if on cue, a knock came to the door.
Scully returned with a bottle of water, and a couple of sodas for herself and Mulder. She set the items down on the table, along with an evidence bag she placed her hand on.
"Sorry I took so long," she apologized, looking between the two of them, "I got wrapped up with a particularly chatty cop." Scully nudged over the bag, and in it the seal that supposedly belonged to Mr. Desmanti.
"Is this what you were talking about?" She couldn't really determine what she was looking at, at first, and decided it would be best to let the man in question explain the item for her.
Archimedes smiles in relief once more, nodding his head, as he looks over the metallic brooch normally used to clasp his cloak.
It was metallic, made in the form of a serpent etched around the etched family sigil, its eyes emerald inlays. He handed it back over.
"This is precisely it, Miss Scully. I know the Desmanti family used to have quite a bit of history with some influential families. The sigil should provide some history to vouch for me."
He still didn't quite seem to grasp exactly what they were asking of him, but he was... trying his best. He takes the bottle of water, pausing at the cap, struggling with it for a bit before figuring it out, and taking a quiet sip.
Mulder got a good look at it. It seemed pretty old, practically ancient. It could be a bit of incredible prop work but from the weight of it, the item seemed legitimate. His eyebrows lifted, and he wondered if there was anything he had in his resources that could turn up where this seal came from.
"We'll look into it," He said, making a half-hearted promise, "But what were you just about to tell me? About the supernatural?" Agent Scully whipped her head to look at Mulder, then back to Mr. Desmanti. Both of them now looked incredibly eager to hear whatever it was the man had to say. Hopefully he wasn't just leading them along.
So much for assurances. Archimedes sighed, however, and nodded, leaning back in, voice dropping quietly, as if to avoid being eavesdropping.
"... the flame was created by me." Archimedes flexes his hand anxiously. "I conjured it, using one of these sigils to focus. Normally I'm much better at controlling it, but the man I was trying to draw a firearm and I... I panicked. I haven't had to use much magic defensively since my days at War."
His gaze turns a little more downcast at that. "... normally I use it more for convenience. Teleportation, light, those such things. I should have just used that, honestly, but I... I'm afraid I wasn't thinking clearly."
Oh here we go.
Mulder casually sat up, leaning a little forward himself and tilting his head to the side. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk curling on his lips.
"Ghosts? Aliens? Big Foot? Things that go 'bump' in the night?" He offered in rapid fire succession, "... I've been known to believe a thing or two fitting those descriptions." Which was an understatement, but he had to keep it relatively straight for the time being. This could just be a ruse, a distraction. But there's no way this guy could have known who he was, unless this was all done practical joke being played on him.
"Why? Did you see something?"
"... I need to be assured that I will be safe if I tell you what happened."
The forlorn young man is back, the blanket of anxiety setting back over him. Like with Scully before, he reaches put his hand to Mulder. "I am just trying to find my little brother, sir. And I can't do that if I'm being... studied, or withheld, or whatever it is. I NEED you to give me your word this will be between us - and Miss Scully, if you trust that she will keep the same promise."
Almost as if on cue, a knock came to the door.
Scully returned with a bottle of water, and a couple of sodas for herself and Mulder. She set the items down on the table, along with an evidence bag she placed her hand on.
"Sorry I took so long," she apologized, looking between the two of them, "I got wrapped up with a particularly chatty cop." Scully nudged over the bag, and in it the seal that supposedly belonged to Mr. Desmanti.
"Is this what you were talking about?" She couldn't really determine what she was looking at, at first, and decided it would be best to let the man in question explain the item for her.
Archimedes smiles in relief once more, nodding his head, as he looks over the metallic brooch normally used to clasp his cloak.
It was metallic, made in the form of a serpent etched around the etched family sigil, its eyes emerald inlays. He handed it back over.
"This is precisely it, Miss Scully. I know the Desmanti family used to have quite a bit of history with some influential families. The sigil should provide some history to vouch for me."
He still didn't quite seem to grasp exactly what they were asking of him, but he was... trying his best. He takes the bottle of water, pausing at the cap, struggling with it for a bit before figuring it out, and taking a quiet sip.
when mitski said-
Ruth Madievsky, All-Night Pharmacy
William Wordsworth
He breathes out a sigh of relief.
"Thank fate." A llittle more tension leaves his shoulders, and he contemplates Mulders question. There's still a small bit of hesitance, not knowing what's safe to admit to. He pulls nervously at a long strand of hair, before leaning back in, conspiratorially.
"... Mr. Mulder. Are... are you acquainted at all with the supernatural?"
Oh here we go.
Mulder casually sat up, leaning a little forward himself and tilting his head to the side. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk curling on his lips.
"Ghosts? Aliens? Big Foot? Things that go 'bump' in the night?" He offered in rapid fire succession, "... I've been known to believe a thing or two fitting those descriptions." Which was an understatement, but he had to keep it relatively straight for the time being. This could just be a ruse, a distraction. But there's no way this guy could have known who he was, unless this was all done practical joke being played on him.
"Why? Did you see something?"
"... I need to be assured that I will be safe if I tell you what happened."
The forlorn young man is back, the blanket of anxiety setting back over him. Like with Scully before, he reaches put his hand to Mulder. "I am just trying to find my little brother, sir. And I can't do that if I'm being... studied, or withheld, or whatever it is. I NEED you to give me your word this will be between us - and Miss Scully, if you trust that she will keep the same promise."
Archimedes does take one, just to be polite, gently cracking it between his front teeth and holding quietly onto the discarded shell. He makes a face at the slew of word salad being thrown at him, head racing to figure out the association, finally looking irritable as it comes through. He's not even going to address the 'half-elf' thing. Honestly, humans believed such silly things
"... its the style of form I've been particular to for awhile. And while Mother taught me to play some instruments, I'm hardly a bard. I'm... I'm not much if anything anymore, I'm afraid. I'd call myself a General but that was... very long ago. My fighting is a little rusty - which was why I lost control of the fire."
He sighs, sitting back in his chair. "... I panicked. I didn't mean to hurt those people." He's sinking slowly back into the forlorn angst, before shaking himself out. "... are they all alright? Do you know?"
“From my understanding they said it was some sort of pyrotechnics. You playing with fireworks for your campaign? I hope you got some clearance for that because that can be a reason they detain you.” Now see, here might be something. If this was a person who could use pyrokenesis then this would constitute as an X-File. He kept his relaxed posture, not giving himself away right yet but his attention had been grabbed, so to speak.
“But to answer your question, it seems like everyone came out fine. There was only some minor singeing. Most of the damage was done to the building. You’re lucky.” Another sunflower seed popped into the mouth, and another shell in the pocket, “Why don’t you walk me through exactly how it happened, and tell me exactly what you did, hmm?”
He breathes out a sigh of relief.
"Thank fate." A llittle more tension leaves his shoulders, and he contemplates Mulders question. There's still a small bit of hesitance, not knowing what's safe to admit to. He pulls nervously at a long strand of hair, before leaning back in, conspiratorially.
"... Mr. Mulder. Are... are you acquainted at all with the supernatural?"
Oh, whoops. Had they not been introduced before being let into the interrogation room? The two agents looked at each other slightly embarrassed, before Scully took the stranger's hand.
"I'm sorry. I'm Special Agent Dana Scully and this is my partner, Fox Mulder." Her small hand fit neatly into Archimedes', and her grip was firm. Upon contact however, Dana's eyes widened. As she stared at the strange man, something in her body noted something... Off about him. It wasn't his behavior, nor his fashion choice. There was a sudden feeling she got that made her quickly pull her hand back.
"... I'm going to get you some water, and see if I can't get access to that um... Seal, that you mentioned." Tucking her hair behind her ear, she and Mulder traded glances before Scully made her way to the door. She made a quick exit, leaving the two men in the room alone with one another.
Archimedes had been in the process of lowering his head to press gently to her hand - a deferential sign of respect more evident when the lowered horns are visible - only for him to flinch back as she suddenly pulls away. Had he done something wrong...?
"Ah... of course, Miss--" He trails off again as she makes a quick exit. He gives a wounded look to Mulder, as if expecting to be scolded. He shifts uncomfortably.
"... is... will she be alright?" He asks, fretful.
“I’m just not sure she can handle this much nerd energy all at once.” Mulder said, pulling the bag of sunflower seeds from his jacket pocket. He put them out on the table as a gesture, but didn’t expect the other to take any.
“So, let me guess: you’re a bard.” He quipped, cracking a shell before putting the remains in his pocket, “Wait wait, no that’s too easy. A druid? Half-elf? Really digging the luscious locks you got. How long did that take you to grow out?” Mulder hadn’t been given any evidence to believe that this person was anything but a really drunk nerd having the worst day of his life. It was better than sitting around in the office with his thumb up his ass, he supposed.
Archimedes does take one, just to be polite, gently cracking it between his front teeth and holding quietly onto the discarded shell. He makes a face at the slew of word salad being thrown at him, head racing to figure out the association, finally looking irritable as it comes through. He's not even going to address the 'half-elf' thing. Honestly, humans believed such silly things
"... its the style of form I've been particular to for awhile. And while Mother taught me to play some instruments, I'm hardly a bard. I'm... I'm not much if anything anymore, I'm afraid. I'd call myself a General but that was... very long ago. My fighting is a little rusty - which was why I lost control of the fire."
He sighs, sitting back in his chair. "... I panicked. I didn't mean to hurt those people." He's sinking slowly back into the forlorn angst, before shaking himself out. "... are they all alright? Do you know?"
Ah. He had somewhat guessed that would be a long shot. He began to slunp forward, feeling defeated once more. At the very least the woman was being much more hospitable - even if her offer confused him slightly, apparent in the slight frown, head tilting towards her.
"... I... thank you, I think I should be fine. A water will be perfectly suitable, miss...?"
He paused. He didn't think he had caught their names, reaching out his free hand for hers.
Oh, whoops. Had they not been introduced before being let into the interrogation room? The two agents looked at each other slightly embarrassed, before Scully took the stranger's hand.
"I'm sorry. I'm Special Agent Dana Scully and this is my partner, Fox Mulder." Her small hand fit neatly into Archimedes', and her grip was firm. Upon contact however, Dana's eyes widened. As she stared at the strange man, something in her body noted something... Off about him. It wasn't his behavior, nor his fashion choice. There was a sudden feeling she got that made her quickly pull her hand back.
"... I'm going to get you some water, and see if I can't get access to that um... Seal, that you mentioned." Tucking her hair behind her ear, she and Mulder traded glances before Scully made her way to the door. She made a quick exit, leaving the two men in the room alone with one another.
Archimedes had been in the process of lowering his head to press gently to her hand - a deferential sign of respect more evident when the lowered horns are visible - only for him to flinch back as she suddenly pulls away. Had he done something wrong...?
"Ah... of course, Miss--" He trails off again as she makes a quick exit. He gives a wounded look to Mulder, as if expecting to be scolded. He shifts uncomfortably.
"... is... will she be alright?" He asks, fretful.
“Sorry,” Mulder spoke up as he tucked his feet into a separate chair. It was hard being this tall sometimes, “Unfortunately seals, signet rings, and family crests are entirely out of the question.” Scully rolled her eyes at this, but her partner did have a point. She did make a note to check in with the personal effects after they were done with this preliminary interview, however.
“What about your brother? The one you’re looking for, would he be able to provide us with any sort of documentation?” Maybe if they got a foothold somewhere, they could at least get the ball rolling and maybe figure out where to go from there.
“Come on, work with us. The sooner we get some proper paperwork, the sooner we can all go home.” And he could put this weird LARPer behind them.
"I don't know, he's... he's much more established here than I am. It's very possible he could be able to produce something more satisfactory. But he hasn't been home in some years." Archimedes looks mournfully back at the man. "I'm. I'm worried. That's the only reason I'm here to begin with! He usually comes home at least every few years, but we haven't heard from him in a long while. He's... he can be much more fragile than he likes to admit. I try to keep him safe, as the eldest of the family."
He bites onto his lip, gaze flicking back and forth between the two, looking for some allowance. "... if you could find a lead, it might be beneficial for all of us. Or you could let me go, and I could return when I find him to give you the proper... whatever it is you're seeking."
"We need to prove you are who you say you are, Mr. Desmanti." Scully insisted, ignoring her partner's behavior, "If you think that seal could help us identify you, we will take a look at it."
Dana sighed. Was this really their X-File? This seemed like a dead end more than anything else. Why had it been brought to their attention in the first place? Was this some kind of joke? She decided to shift gears, focusing less on getting documents or hard information, and more on maybe making him feel more comfortable so he was more willing to communicate.
"Have you had anything to drink? I could get you some water for the time being. A soda, maybe?"
Ah. He had somewhat guessed that would be a long shot. He began to slunp forward, feeling defeated once more. At the very least the woman was being much more hospitable - even if her offer confused him slightly, apparent in the slight frown, head tilting towards her.
"... I... thank you, I think I should be fine. A water will be perfectly suitable, miss...?"
He paused. He didn't think he had caught their names, reaching out his free hand for hers.
"Mr. Desmanti-" Scully was quick to say before Mulder could continue, "according to your paperwork you don't have a home. In fact, you have no paperwork whatsoever, save for the documentation that the police department has created for you."
Whoever this fellow was, he seemed to be caught in a delusion of some sort. How had he managed to get this far in life without records of any kind?
"No driver's license, no social security, no birth certificate-" She listed off as Mulder made himself comfortable, "nothing. We only know your name because you gave it to us. We don't even know where you're from. The precinct can't let you go until we get a proper identification."
When had the mortal realm gotten so complicated? Archimedes lets out a high, nervous bark of laughter, head hanging again in forlorn frustration, hand coming up to his hairline, clenching nervously before he looks at her again, with a nervous smile.
"I! Can't provide that, I'm afraid, miss. At least not to an extent you people will be satisfied with. But I can promise that if we can just let this go, I will trouble you no more. I'm just looking for my brother, PLEASE, all I was doing was following some misleading information. I have no more business here."
He starts to fumble about, checking his pockets for something, before quietly cursing under his breath. "... would a family seal suffice?" He watches her pleasingly. "They... they took my brooch, you're welcome to ask to look at it, if you would like."
“Sorry,” Mulder spoke up as he tucked his feet into a separate chair. It was hard being this tall sometimes, “Unfortunately seals, signet rings, and family crests are entirely out of the question.” Scully rolled her eyes at this, but her partner did have a point. She did make a note to check in with the personal effects after they were done with this preliminary interview, however.
“What about your brother? The one you’re looking for, would he be able to provide us with any sort of documentation?” Maybe if they got a foothold somewhere, they could at least get the ball rolling and maybe figure out where to go from there.
“Come on, work with us. The sooner we get some proper paperwork, the sooner we can all go home.” And he could put this weird LARPer behind them.
"I don't know, he's... he's much more established here than I am. It's very possible he could be able to produce something more satisfactory. But he hasn't been home in some years." Archimedes looks mournfully back at the man. "I'm. I'm worried. That's the only reason I'm here to begin with! He usually comes home at least every few years, but we haven't heard from him in a long while. He's... he can be much more fragile than he likes to admit. I try to keep him safe, as the eldest of the family."
He bites onto his lip, gaze flicking back and forth between the two, looking for some allowance. "... if you could find a lead, it might be beneficial for all of us. Or you could let me go, and I could return when I find him to give you the proper... whatever it is you're seeking."
